So thankful

We had the scariest time of our lives tonight. I was cooking dinner and had just asked Mike to come in and shred some chicken for me, from that point on everything seems like a blur of activity, all happening in jumbled, concurrent time. We heard a bumping sound, then a very brief cry from Cade, then an, “I’m so sorry, Cade,” from Kyle.

But no more crying.

I was stirring cheese sauce at the stove, so Mike went in to investigate. In the back of my mind I was both relieved that there was no more crying, but also alarmed because the only other time I remembered hearing Kyle apologize so quickly and sincerely to Cade was when he accidentally knocked Cade’s tooth loose.

It was only moments later when Mike came into the kitchen saying, “Tina, Tina, it’s bad!” I dropped what I was doing and turned to see Mike laying a limp and unconscious Cade on the floor and repeatedly calling out his name, then directing me to call 911. My initial thought was that Cade was paralyzed. The phone wasn’t where I expected it to be, but I quickly found it and dialed the numbers you never want to have to dial.

I think I may have asked what happened, but I’m not sure. I remember screaming over and over again, “Oh My God!!! Dear LORD!!! God help us!!!” I remember screaming to the 911 operator for help in a complete panic, but by God’s grace managing to carefully articulate our address for her. I remember her asking me questions and I couldn’t put a cohesive thought together other than to say that I didn’t know what happened because I hadn’t seen it. I remember seeing Mike doing what seemed to be CPR on Cade and I was just screaming and praying and begging God for Cade to be okay.

At some point Cade started to open his eyes, but they rolled back in his head and he did some weird movements and I thought it was really, really bad.

Finally, he started crying and I felt relief like when you hear your baby’s first cry at birth. The 911 operator heard the crying and asked if that was him and then told me that was a good sign. I heard the sirens and felt even more relief. By this time we had all somehow migrated to the couch with Mike still holding Cade and I went to open the front door and flag the paramedics down. When Cade saw the fire truck and ambulance he pointed outside and said, “Da.” (His go-to word, in this case meaning, “Look, there, fire truck, ambulance.”)

The wonderful paramedics checked him out and basically let us make the call whether we wanted them to take him to the hospital for a CAT scan and X-rays or observe him at home for a while. I was definitely leaning toward taking him, but Mike was confident we could keep him at home and watch him so that is what we did. He was very clingy to me for a while, but eventually got back to laughing and playing.

There is nothing like near-tragedy to bring life into perspective. We are thanking God for His protection and praising Him for Cade’s precious life.

I guess I should add that we don't really know exactly what happened. Kyle said he was running and didn't see Cade in time (or at all?) and knocked into him and Cade fell backwards, really hard, on the wood floor. Cade didn't seem to have any symptoms of a concussion so based on our internet research Mike and I are thinking he passed out from holding his breath because of the shock, upset, and pain. Mike said that when he saw him on the ground he scooped him up and Cade acted like he was going to cry, but just made some strange moves and then went totally limp and unconscious. We are just so incredibly thankful that Cade is okay and have instituted a "no running inside" rule (at least until the bubbles arrive - one for each boy).