No one wants to lose a child. I suppose that is what happened to me when I was a child, one day I was walking back from the library, when a car struck me. There could have been a number of factors which could have had changed things, but I was one of the first passengers of the Nightengale helicopter transportation service to Norfolk General Hospital. I am pretty sure that my mother was devastated when it was happening.
The Glascow Coma Scale measures responsiveness to stimuli, and I’m told that I had no resposiveness, that would be 3 ones, totalling 3 on the Glascow Coma Scale. Fortunately, I was not dead, but I spent something like 10 days in an ICU, and then was transferred to a hospital room probably, and then further transferred to a room at King’s Daughter’s Pediatric Rehabilitation Hospital in Norfolk Virginia.
By about day 49, my parents could see that I was making progress, and decided that it might be better for me to be home, so they took me home. From what I recall of the experience, remember my mom’s retelling of the story, when they went to give me a bath, I turned purple due to the lack of internal temperature control.
On day 52, my parents took me back to a doctor at the King’s Daughter’s Pediatric Rehab Hospital, in order to be seen by a doctor there and evaluated that I was okay to be discharged. Or whatever was really going on. I guess the doctor saw me, and could see that I had made progress, from when he last saw me. It was probably not much progress at that time, but the hopes that parents cling to, for their children to do well are important.