I was so saddened by Natasha Richardson's death. It's always tragic when someone dies young, particularly when they leave children behind. And her death was so unexpected and seemingly random.
I read many of the articles that came out, including the one where they reported the autopsy findings - that she died of an epidural hematoma. Apparently when that happens, pressure builds inside the skull, pushing down the brain and causing it to press on the brain stem, leading to the body shutting down.
Reading that made me realize that I sort of dodged a bullet myself years ago. My brother and I were camping for the weekend with my parents. We were bored and were down at the water, throwing rocks at each other to see how big of a splash we could make (yes, I do know what an idiotic game that is). I was in the water on an air mattress when I see this giant rock about the size of an adult's fist dropping down out of the air, right toward my head, and I froze. I knew it was going to hit me, and I couldn't do anything about it.
It did indeed hit right on the top of my head, making me throw my head back as I started to slide into the water. My brother, who was closer to shore, made it out to me in about two seconds flat and pulled me toward shore. My parents, unbeknownst to us, had just come upon us and were trying to figure out what we were doing when they saw me get hit. My dad quickly got down the hill they were atop and carried me back up it, to our campsite.
I was in a lot of pain but, except for a few woozy seconds, was lucid for the most part. I just remember laying in the trailer on a bed (thank the Lord we weren't tent camping then), trying to not hurt so much. I can't exactly remember, but I think we stayed there a few hours, then packed up and headed for home. Or else we stayed overnight and went home the next day.
At any rate, by the next day, my face was showing some pink swollen areas, and my mom took me to the doctor. Turned out the rock had cracked my skull and caused me to have internal bleeding.
I wonder now if the crack in my skull was what kept pressure from building up enough to lead to a more dire outcome for me. I wonder if, had my skull not been cracked by the rock, I would have just slipped into unconsciousness and never woken back up. It freaks me out to think about it now. I just have to thank God for the broken bone in my head. I can still faintly feel where it fused itself back together. It used to be much more noticeable when I ran my fingers over it.
I also wonder why on earth my parents didn't immediately put me in the car and take me to an emergency room for something like that. My mom freaked out when Rachel was in daycare and fell and got a cut above her eye, and basically made us feel like bad parents because we hadn't already gone to the hospital with her. We took Rachel to urgent care, where they just used an eyewash to make sure the cut was clean, then bandaged it. It wasn't bad enough to require stitches and there was no other damage done. We ourselves had been waffling about whether or not she needed to see a doctor, so we were glad we'd done it for our own peace of mind.
But I do wonder what the heck was up with my parents.
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