Caitlin was killed by a drunk driver in May of 2003. The crash was on the 22nd and she died from her injuries on the 24th. The next year we started a 5k walk to raise funds for a scholarship in Caitlin's memory and we kept that going for 10 years. In the course of those 10 years, the emotional train that ran roughshod through our family took Diane too, from a massive heart attack.
Which prolonged the train ride for those of us left behind.
But, as with most things, the more you do a thing, the more you learn what to do. And, for that matter, what not to do. There's no timetable on that however. It's still very much a learn as you go kind of thing. But the natural repetition of life allows us to handle most Caitlin/Diane related scenarios fairly smoothly. Outwardly at least. See the title of this blog for clarity.
I wish I could remember a story from one of Caitlin's birthdays to relate here. Instead, thinking about the title for this post, and the randomness of the events that led us to this point, I'll tell you about the immediate impact of that random act.
As we walked into her room in the NICU, the first glimpse of Caitlin took my breath away. That image is one of the things from this time that is indelibly burned into my brain. She looked so tiny in the huge bed. Her arms were bundled up in huge rolls of gauze and she was propped up by pillows under both arms and legs. Her face was bruised, swollen and distorted. She had tubes and wires everywhere. She was on a ventilator. She had a broken femur in her left leg and a broken tibia in her right leg. She had a broken humerus in her left arm and a broken ulna in her right arm. She had a fractured pelvis. A lacerated liver, a ruptured spleen and contusions on her heart, lungs and brain. Even though she hadn’t regained consciousness since the crash, they had her in a medically induced coma because they were already concerned about the bruising on her brain. The doctors were concerned that the swelling of her brain, left unchecked, would increase pressure on her brain and reduce blood flow to and oxygen supply for her brain. The brain is surrounded by cerebrospinal fluid. Among other things, it acts as a cushion for the brain so if, for example, you hit your head against something, your brain won’t smash against the inside of your skull causing even more damage. Typically, at rest, the pressure in your brain is measured in the low teens. Caitlin’s intracranial pressure (ICP) was already in the low 20’s and, despite the best efforts of the doctors, it showed no signs of slowing down.
Diane sobbed as we walked up to Caitlin’s bedside. The nurse was speaking to us, explaining everything we were looking at, but I don’t think either of us heard a word she said.
It was hardly the first time I’d seen something like this. In my job, it’s not unusual to be on the scene of a crash like the one Caitlin was in, a crash that results in multi-system trauma. It’s also not uncommon to be passing through the Emergency Department and see someone with the types of injuries Caitlin sustained. The problem came in, for me, because very early in my career I learned to de-personalize the things I saw. I learned how potentially easy it was to assign the personality traits or the physical characteristics of a family member to many of the emergency situations I would encounter. And how unsettling it would be to me unless I removed every bit of emotion from what I needed to do. So that’s what I always did. Not this time though. This, this was so different from anything I’d ever known. I couldn’t possibly de-personalize this. Not that I ever wanted to. I mean, for crying out loud, this was Caitlin lying there, broken and bruised. This hurt like nothing I’d ever known before. And I know it was a hundred times worse for Diane.
A thousand times worse.
A million times worse.
How could it not be? I think the bond between mother and child is probably the strongest human connection. At least in most cases. And the bond between Diane and her girls was always strong. Sure they had their differences, who doesn’t? But they genuinely enjoyed the company of each other in any number of different settings. True, most that I’ve mentioned revolved around shopping, but to leave it at that is an oversimplification and it does a great disservice to them.
So, because I don't want your takeaway to this post to be all sobby and sniffly and teary eyed I thought I'd follow up that part of Caitlin's too short life with this part.
As with so many stories involving Diane and the girls, this one took place one day while I was at work. It was a little before Mother’s Day 2002. Caitlin and Diane had spent the entire day, a Saturday, cleaning the townhouse we lived in at the time, cleaned it from top to bottom. After they finished, they were taking a break and Caitlin came up to Diane, put her arm around her and said -
“Mom, we worked hard today.”
Diane said “Yes we did.”
“We should do something nice for ourselves.”
Diane looked at her.
Caitlin said “Mom, let’s go get our belly buttons pierced.”
“Are you crazy? I’m 47 years old, I’m not going to get my belly button pierced!”
“No, really Mom, let’s go. It’ll be a bonding thing. It’ll be my Mother’s Day gift to you.”
Sigh “Ok, but don’t ever tell Grandma.”
I’ve got so many stories like that, of things Diane did with one or both of her girls, they were very close. So when Diane described a “Caitlin-sized hole in her heart” I believed her. I just didn’t realize at that time how close to reality that description was.
Help us turn a horrible random act into a beautiful one.
Happy birthday kiddo.
I love you.
Peace
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