Another Day at the Hospital

But this time it wasn't for me.

My eldest daughter Jo managed to become the proud (or rueful) owner of a somewhat serious concussion. She wasn't feeling well in the middle of the night, got up to get some Gravol, but became dizzy and collapsed in the kitchen.

Trouble was, she was standing up when she collapsed, so she pitched forward onto the counter, and smacked her forehead so hard that she knocked herself out.

This sudden onset of unconsciousness, coupled with her forward momentum, allowed her to test the physics theory of "for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction" -- which in this case, meant flying backwards and smacking the back of her head on the hardwood floor.

Suffice it to say, Jo spent much of today lying in a hospital bed, with a handy bucket next to her, to accommodate her stomach-emptying rituals every 20 minutes or so. I spent the time sitting beside her, holding her hand at times, agreeing with her that having to fill a specimen bottle was gross, explaining that an ECG was only a problem if you had a hairy chest, and buying her a soft toy dog to cuddle while she slept on and off in the hallway on a guerney for the better part of the day.

She's home now, feeling better somewhat, but will be in constant communication with a bottle of Advil for the next couple of days. The doctors say that she appears to have no serious long-term effects from the concussion, and we're just grateful that she's okay.

I really enjoy spending a whole day with my daughter, but this wasn't exactly what I would normally envision for daddy-and-daughter bonding.