Falling for You

Last night for dinner, Steve got out the BBQ grill, slapped some chicken on it, along with some broccoli spears, and the kids and I basically ran amuck in the garage and on the driveway, enjoying the amazing smell of grilled chicken and the fact that Daddy was doing the cooking.

As we were playing, Clark tripped (on absolutely nothing) and his face became intimately acquainted with the concrete garage floor.  He immediately cried about it (which is a good sign, actually), so I took him inside, soothed his tears, checked his eyes to see if the pupils were dilated or different sizes (the kid falls a lot, so I have the entire list of concussion symptoms memorized), washed his face, and gave him a band-aid, which calmed him down.  Once he stopped crying, I kept an eye on him and saw that he had an appetite and still seemed to be behaving pretty normally, although he acted as though his head hurt, so I gave him some acetaminophen, and then he ran outside to play in the rain puddles with Jack.

 We continued on with our evening as though nothing had happened, had Family Home Evening (complete with sparklers!), then put the kids to bed, around, oh, 8:00.
I ran, Steve ran, I showered, then as Steve was out in front of our house, cooling down around 10:00 or so, Jack called me into his room, letting me know that he needed to go potty.  I helped Jack go potty (wiping is still an issue for the boy), and as I walked him back to bed, I noticed that Clark was sleeping quite deeply--something not necessarily normal for him when his brother has been up and turned the light on.  I felt prompted to wake him up, thinking of the fact that he had hit his head relatively hard on the garage floor, and thought it'd be better to be safe than sorry.
I shook him gently, calling his name.  Nothing.
I shook him harder.  Still nothing--he didn't even open his eyes.
I picked him up, rocked him, called his name louder, moved his arms and legs--he didn't respond at all.
I pried his eyes open to try to see if they would respond to the light--they were rolled back in his head.
By this point, I'd been working on him for probably about 3 or 4 minutes (felt like half an hour) and I started panicking just a little bit.  I ran outside, called for Steve, and said, "Clark's not waking up.  I think he may have a concussion--come in and check him."
I ran back in (Jack thought this was all hilarious, by the way), and shook Clark once more--he cracked his eyes open for about half a second, then closed them again.  Progress, I thought--we're making progress.
Steve came in and started calling his name, picked him up, rocked him--I ran and got a wet washcloth and started wiping his face, and that was the first time he started responding.  He finally opened his eyes all the way probably 10 minutes after I first tried to wake him up.
For the first half hour/45 minutes that Clark was awake, he was incredibly confused and disoriented.  He wouldn't answer any of our questions, he didn't seem to recognize us well, and it was obvious that the light was hurting his eyes.  We called our wonderful neighbor, and he came over and helped Steve give Clark a priesthood blessing.  In the blessing, Clark was promised that there would be no residual damage from his injury, that his brain was unharmed, and that he would rest well that night...all things which calmed me greatly and gave me some much-needed peace.
As soon as our neighbor left, Clark started responding verbally to our questions, recognizing and pointing at Steve and I when we'd ask him who we were.  We brought him into the kitchen and gave him a drink of water, and then, just because we wanted to be sure about our decision to not take him into the ER, Steve called our insurance company's nurse hotline (you can call and ask a nurse about medical questions and they will give you advice) while I gave Jack and Clark each a bowl of ice cream.

By this point, Clark was acting completely normal--the ice cream greatly improved his mood, for sure, and although he was still sensitive to the lights, he was speaking full sentences again and even reciting the Haunted Mansion song.  The nurse recommended that we take Clark in to the doctor the next morning and check on him throughout the night, but agreed with us that he would probably be okay without going to the Emergency Room.
We then sent Clark and Jack to bed and went in and stalled until midnight, when I went in to check on him once more.  This time, although he wanted to go back to sleep, he woke up completely the first time we attempted to wake him, which was a big relief to me.

This morning, I called the doctor's office and they agreed to see him at 11:00--I took him in (of course, by this point, he was acting completely normal and even running around the waiting room--typical), and they checked him out--he's fine.  They gave me a list of other symptoms to watch for (obvious ones, like seizures and vomiting--as if I'd ignore a seizure after my kid hit his head), told me to try to have him rest a little and take it easy, then sent us home.
I guess the most ironic part of this is that Clark has been to the hospital/doctor's offices for injuries and illnesses more than the rest of our family members combined.  That kid is just plain accident-prone...and we know he still has to have his tonsils out this fall!  I guess it's the combination of terrible balance (his tonsils are huge and press against his inner ear, affecting his balance) and the fact that the kid is a fearless climber/explorer, but he seems to get hurt a lot.  Sigh.
Once we got home, I fed him, then took Jack in the front room to read to him (he was feeling very left out of everything).  After reading a couple of different books, I realized that Clark and Maggie were giggling a lot--in my bedroom.  I ran in to find this:

Childproof locks, by the way, are not childproof.
But at least he's back to normal, right?