Better Off Alone (Adopted by Brendon and Sarah Urie)

83. Sarah

I wasn't sure how to explain everything that had happened to Callie since the day we brought her to the hospital.

After she had a seizure when we brought her into the emergency room, and they got her admitted to the ER, they did an MRI. Callie hadn't woken up since the seizure, and she was still unconscious or asleep afterwards.

Shortly after they brought her back from the MRI, she had another seizure. They ran her down for an emergency CT scan to see if they could get results faster.

About two hours after the CT scan we had the results of both tests. There was a bleed on Callie's brain and it was causing pressure to build up in her skull. They said they had to operate right away to stop the bleeding and lower the pressure on her brain.

With fear in our hearts, Brendon and I signed the forms and watched as they took our unconscious daughter to the operating room. Brendon and I held each other and worried. We sat in the surgical waiting room for news. Brendon was texting and emailing our lawyer, the school, whoever needed to know that the concussion Callie got from the girl at school slamming her head on the ground, had now caused a bleed on her brain and she was having surgery to save her life. It wasn't hyperbolic. If the pressure on her brain got to be too high, she could die. And we'd already nearly lost her a couple of times already.

All told, Callie was in surgery for four hours before they brought her back up to a room. Once she was settled, a nurse came and brought us to Callie's bedside. I had to stifle a sob when I saw her. Her head was wrapped in bandages, she had an IV, a catheter, and she just looked so tiny.

"My parents are asking for updates," Brendon said. "All I have is that she made it through surgery. I don't really want them to come back up here considering they were just here."

"As if that would stop them," I said. He smiled.

"I'm going to try to convince them that unless Callie is in a really bad state, they don't have to come here. And I'll promise if she takes a turn, I'll tell them immediately."

"Good luck keeping them away," I laughed. It felt good to laugh. It took my worry for Callie away for just a minute.

We sat beside her and just waited for her to hopefully wake up. She had a wire coming out of her head that was measuring the pressure on her brain, and was asleep, possibly unconscious, but still sedated from the surgery anyway.

In the morning, after Brendon and I had spent a sleepless night beside our little girl, Callie opened her eyes, and signed that her head hurt. I asked her how bad from one to ten, as we'd done the day before. She said nine. An improvement over the 13 she'd said before the surgery.

I pressed her call button and told the nurse Callie was awake and in pain. She came back with a needle and Callie watched as she inserted it in her IV. A few minutes later, Callie was asleep again. Brendon and I sighed in relief. She was doing okay.

A few hours later, Callie opened her eyes again. She looked tired and a little confused, but she was awake. I asked how she was feeling and she said she felt okay. I took that as a very good sign.

Then she asked what happened and I wasn't sure how to explain. But I would.

I sat up on her bed, took both her hands and kissed them, then started to explain about her headache. She remembered throwing up in her room at home, and her head hurting. She remembered us bringing her to the hospital. What she didn't remember was anything after getting here.

"You had a seizure, and the nurses and doctors worked really fast to find out what was going on. You had some bleeding on your brain from your concussion. Well, from your head hitting the floor at school. They did surgery to relieve the pressure on your brain and stop the bleeding. Right now you have a very cool looking wire coming out of your head measuring the pressure. The nurse says it's down and pretty much normal. So it looks like they stopped the bleeding."

"Brains can bleed?" Callie asked.

"Of course. But because your brain is all in your skull, if you have bleeding, it has nowhere to go, so it builds up and presses on your brain. Your brain doesn't feel anything but the pressure feels like a terrible headache.

Callie nodded. I assumed she was agreeing with the headache analogy.

We spoke with her for a little while longer until she started yawning. We encouraged her to go to sleep. She needed as much rest as she could get.

"And I thought a concussion was bad enough," Brendon frowned.

"I doubt Melanie intended for this to happen," I said.

"I don't actually care what Melanie intended. We're going after her. I want the kid charged with assault causing bodily harm. Whatever we can get her charged with. The kid is a menace. Callie could have died. And this kid had been the cause twice of us nearly losing our kid. What if Callie is permanently disabled? What would happen if she had needed round the clock, 24 hour nursing care? What if she still needs some intensive ... something? What if she's lost skills? What if she has brain damage that affects her learning, her memory, her life?"

I sighed. I didn't disagree that the kid needed to be held accountable. I just wasn't sure how we should be going about that.

My phone dinged with a text. It was Kala.

"Zack just told me Callie's in the hospital and had BRAIN SURGERY?! What happened?!"

I explained in as few words as possible, what had transpired. Kala said she and Zack would come by some time the next day to visit. I smiled.

I looked over at Callie and watched her sleeping soundly. My daughter. My beautiful girl. She'd been through so much. And she kept fighting so hard.