The high school called and said Brooke is sick. She is really pale and they are calling the school nurse.
Twenty minutes later I arrive to pick her up and an ambulance with a paramedic team is with Brooke. She cannot walk, open her eyes or focus, she can barely speak and her blood pressure is way below normal. My brain is racing, trying to make sense of what on earth is going on, she was perfectly happy and healthy leaving for school only hours earlier.
I let her know I was there and had to ask, "Did you take something?" I knew when she answered she was sincere, she hadn't taken anything.
Test after test after test. Teams of medical staff asking the same questions over and over and over. She states the facts back to them, the answers never wavering.
At 9:00 p.m. they admitted her.
She feels horrible and can't shake the dizziness. She is crabby and often at her threshold in tears wanting to be home and is completely over being stuck with needles.
In comes a nurse, a doctor and three new medical students asking the same questions while she is being admitted. My frustrations are piquing and while I understand medical students need to learn, we have already had an exhausting day and I find them to be of great annoyance. Please study someone who hasn't already had a long, miserable day.
The night nurse is asking the same questions asked in twenty different ways all day. Brooke answers her every question correctly.
Then, the nurse asks, "Do you live with your parents?" The nurse referring to David and I. David had come and spent the evening at the hospital with us and Brooke answered, "Yes."
It caught me off guard.
Even when she couldn't open her eyes, focus and barely speak most of the day she answered correctly. When they asked do you have a sibling? She answered, "Mariah." I thought for certain she would mention Brittany, Joe and Ryan. She didn't.
The nurse asked me who she lived with and I said, "Me."
"Do you live with your parents?" She said, "Yes."
The answer to Brooke is, "Yes."
