Da Goddess

Brother bought a coconut, he bought it for a dime
His sister had another one, she paid it for the lime
She put the lime in the coconut, she drank ’em both up
Put the lime in the coconut, she called the doctor, woke him up, and said

Put the lime in the coconut, you drink ’em both together
Put the lime in the coconut, then you feel better
Put the lime in the coconut, drink ’em both down
Put the lime in the coconut, and call me in the morning

Oh how I wanted the Sprung Monkey version of this song. It was in my head the whole time my kid was telling me her belly hurt. Thankfully, she didn’t have to resort to limes and coconuts. No, she had Vicodin. But that made her nauseated. So I went looking for her nurse and got her some phenergan. Then she got tired and started eating crackers in her sleep. Her mouth was dry. I held out her Sprite toward her and she drank in her sleep. Yeah, lemon-lime soda. You put the lime in the coconut…

Here’s the deal: she’s going to be fine. Thank God!

Here’s how it happened: She was out in the desert on her quad (I think…chances are good that’s what she was riding) and she saw a big bump of dried mud. That’s the last thing she remembered before she woke up. ( Girl lives up to her name once again.) That was on January 1. By yesterday, she wasn’t feeling so great, so when I called and talked to her, she was in pretty bad shape (not that she told me the whole story — she was afraid her aunt would hear). After she got off the phone with me, she went back and forth on whether or not to tell her aunt. Finally, her boyfriend decided to share the news for her. Thank goodness this kid has a good head on his shoulders! He ended up having to carry Mojo out to the car because she couldn’t walk at that point. Too much pain.

In addition to her liver laceration, she has abrasions on her face and chest and shoulders and it looks like there are a few on her legs, too. Then there’s the concussion. And the big ol’ nasty bruise on her ass. Thank God for wearing protective gear 24/7 when you ride. Extra thanks for uncles who taught her well.

Not exactly how I’d prefer her to start the year off, but if this is the worst thing that happens in our family the entire year, I’m okay with that.

Regarding her future desert adventures? I’m okay with that, too. As long as she maybe slows down just a little. And keeps that safety gear on. And doesn’t scare the shit of her mom any further.

We had a good talk while I was at the hospital. I sent LD and Mojo’s boyfriend out of the room so we could have a few moments. They were good moments. I cried. Hate to admit it, but I did.

And then the boyfriend came back in and she heaved a huge sigh of relief. She rests better when he’s by her side. He’s a damn good kid and she’s lucky to have him, that’s for sure. I gave him a big hug before leaving and my card so he could call and keep me updated. If Mo’s still in the hospital tomorrow when he gets out of school, he’ll take me down there when he goes.

Can I fall apart now? Do I get to cry and thank God my kid’s alive and then collapse in a heap from the emotional exhaustion? Cuz, I think that’s what’s gonna happen anyway.

Like I told her, we may not be together every day, but she’s with me all the time. She’s a part of me. Always will be. I think about her morning, noon, and night. I worry about her. Just because we’re not in the same house doesn’t mean I’m not fretting and fussing over what she’s doing. I am! I just try to keep it all well-contained as much as possible and try to remember that she already has someone fussing over her — she doesn’t need to have me call and hear it from me, too. She kind of turned her head and looked at me at that point and said, “don’t worry about what Aunt C’s doing. You know you can call and bug me all you want.” Get that? Bug her? Guess I’ll meddle and pry a little more in the future. We’ll see how long that lasts! She’ll be sick of it in no time.

Thanks for the prayers! Keep ’em coming because she’s really not out of the woods just yet. Until she’s home and 100% healed, it’ll be a concern.

Although blunt liver trauma accounts for 15-20% of abdominal injuries, it is responsible for more than 50% of deaths resulting from blunt abdominal trauma. The mortality rate is higher with blunt abdominal trauma than with penetrating injuries.

The reason those numbers are so high is usually due to the reluctance of people seeking medical care if they don’t see blood. No blood? Oh, must be okay then. Well, not so much. Internal bleeding is very dangerous and if not caught in time, it can be fatal. Not that Mojo’s in that category anymore. (Thank you, Lord!) Still, if she’s too active too soon, she can further damage a weakened portion of the liver and cause the bleeding to begin anew.

Like I said, for now, we wait and see. Whatever the trauma surgeon says is what we’ll go by. Even though they say she may go home tomorrow, I’d kind of rather she stay at least another day so they can monitor her closely. I don’t get a redo if I lose her. Better safe than sorry is our motto.

Now I’m going to go sit in the corner and cry.