“What happened, Maddie? How did you fall?” I asked, looking over at her ballet barre positioned right next to her bed, putting all the pieces together in my head as she looked up at me.
“I don't know Mommy, I just fell,” she said, lying through her teeth.
“Mmm, well...it wouldn't have anything to do with this ballet barre, would it?”
“Um, no?” I could see her mind going, trying to figure out something, anything that could get her out of this...but nope, her four-year-old brain wasn’t fast enough, so she reverted to an old favorite, the pathetic pouty face. It works on everyone except me. I’m Mommy, therefore I’m immune.
“Okay, well I'm going to tell you what I think happened and you can tell me if I'm close or not, okay? She nodded in agreement. “I think someone, possibly you, thought it would be fun to climb on their ballet barre and perhaps sit on it like the monkey bars at the playground.”
Her eyes widened. Yep, bingo.
“Considering that isn’t the safest thing for a little girl to do, I think it might be time for the ballet barre to take a vacation until we can find something safer for you to practice on.” I knew I shouldn't have taken that hand-me-down plastic ballet barre from my Mom’s friend, but she insisted. I don’t know why, but everyone felt this overwhelming need to give toys and clothes to the widow. If I showed any of them my monthly bank statement, they’d probably have a different opinion. Ethan was a planner, and he made sure we’d be taken care of no matter what. I could choose to never work another day in my life and we’d be fine. But being a young widow, I was still the ultimate charity case. It’s been almost three years and I think there might still be enough frozen casseroles in my freezer to last through an apocalypse.
Maddie, though sad, had agreed, and we relocated the ballet barre. She was pretty bummed over losing it, I could tell. But she handled it like a champ.
“Mommy, if my Daddy were here...could he build me a ballet barre?” I nodded, unable to form words, staring at those stupid hospital walls, a reminder of everything lost. That’s exactly what Ethan planned on doing when she had gotten old enough, but plans, being the bitch that they are, have a way of changing.
“Madilyn Murray?” the triage nurse called from across the room. I rose from the chair, juggling Maddie in my arms, and followed the nurse through the double doors to a small room on the left.
“We need to weigh her. Can she stand?” the petite blonde nurse asked as we entered the room.
“Oh, yes.” I placed Maddie’s petite body on the scale, stepping back just slightly. I didn’t want to be too far away in case she fell.
“Okay, you can take her now,” the nurse said, writing down the information on a notepad.
The triage nurse, whose name I learned is Nicole, goes through the many triage procedures, taking her temperature, pulse and blood pressure and asking if Maddie’s allergic to anything. I always find this a strange question to ask for a young child. I mean, how many medications can a normal four-year-old possibly have taken to know a definitive answer to this question? Maddie’s probably taken a grand total of maybe five medications in her short life, and I’m supposed to say no, she not allergic to anything.
“Okay, let’s go over all her symptoms so I get everything into the system,” Nicole said, transferring information from her little notepad into a computer.
I went over the events of the afternoon with her, the ballerina routine, the fall, flying up the stairs, and how it happened. She continued to type on the keyboard and listen. Occasionally she asked questions.
“After she settled down, we went downstairs to cuddle on the couch and start a movie. About an hour or so later, she became quiet and lethargic, which is very un-Maddie like. I was about to call the on-call pediatrician when she became violently ill. So, I packed her in the car and came here.”
Nicole leaned forward, examining Maddie, completely oblivious to our stench, and it was strong. There was no way someone could miss it. People who worked in hospitals must have nostrils of steel.
“Bless your little heart. How ya doing, baby girl?” Nicole’s southern accent was strong. She was not originally from here. Richmonders don’t have that much twang.
“I’m okay, I guess,” Maddie managed to say before burrowing her head back into my chest.
“We’ll take good care of her. Let’s finish up, and we’ll get you settled in an exam room. I’ll make sure she gets Dr. Matthews. He’s the best.”
“Thank you, Nicole. I really appreciate it,” I said, meaning every word.
“Don’t you mention it, hun. I got one at home just about the same age,” she said, turning back to the computer to type again.
Nicole proceeded to ask a few more questions, briefly examined Maddie's head, made a call, and minutes later another nurse appeared in the doorway, ready to escort us down the hall.
“You take care, hun,” she said, waving at Maddie and me as we walked away.
Ushered into an exam room, we were introduced to yet another nurse, this one’s nametag said Theresa. She gave me a tiny hospital gown to change Maddie into before heading for the door, saying she would return shortly.
I looked at the clean, freshly laundered hospital gown with envy. At that moment, I’m pretty sure I would have given half my closet for a pair of scrubs. The last thing on my mind when we left was clothing, and I’d rushed out the door covered in vomit. The time since hadn’t improved matters, and I was pretty sure I smelled awful. No, scratch that. I knew I smelled awful. Theresa seemed to be holding her breath the entire time she was in the room. Well, at least I was at a hospital. There was no one to impress here.
The door to our exam room cracked open and a familiar face peeked in.
“Clare? Oh my God! I heard one of the nurses say your name and came to investigate. Can you tell me why I had to find out my BFF and goddaughter are in the ER through some random nurse. You couldn't have called or texted?” Leah, my slightly peeved best friend said, walking into the room wearing panda bear scrubs. Only Leah could wear those ridiculous looking scrubs and still look hot. I don’t know how she makes it out alive each day in the Labor and Delivery unit. If someone like her had walked in when I was in labor, all tanned and blonde with her perky br**sts and model physique, while I was sweating like a pig trying to birth a child, I would have decked her. She was lucky I actually allowed her in the birthing room when Maddie was born. Although I did make her come to the hospital in her grungiest scrubs and absolutely no makeup. Petty? Yes. But it made me feel the slightest bit better.