Illusions of safety

Well, we've had an interesting few weeks. Just as I thought we would survive this deployment with only minor scrapes (and 2 new appliances)......

So it was Monday, the Monday that started the week that Tracy would come home. I was busy making preparations for his homecoming, getting my hair done, organizing the house, etc. The school nurse called me to tell me that Nathan had fallen at school and broken his arm. I was luckily around the corner from the school, at a playdate with Emma and one of her friends. Poor Nathan was in bad shape. He was pale, still, moaning quietly. His arm was obviously broken - a little u shape in his wrist. He started to go into shock when we tried to move him, so we had to transport him to the hospital via ambulance. Oh the timing! It was pretty dramatic. By the time we had finished that day, we found out he had broken 3 bones (radius, ulna, and humerous), one was displaced. The orthopedist put him in a temporary (but hard plaster) cast, with instructions to follow up in two days. We did, still he delayed putting on a new cast (it would have been very painful, fracture was pretty unstable). We were to be seen the following Monday. Since we were going to be in Kansas that day, we were given a referral to take to the hospital there. Yeah, good luck with that. I called to warn them we were coming. "I'm sorry m'am, but you aren't in our system, and we don't have any available appointments." I called the rear detachment there at Fort Riley for help. I called Tricare. I spent at least 2 hours on the phone trying to get something worked out. "M'am, we need Tricare North to fax us an authorization for care, or we can't treat him." "M'am, we need a referral from your primary care provider." "M'am, we need the name and contact information of the treating physician before we can send a referral." I got nothing but run around. In the meantime, I was hysterical by the time Tracy actually was released after his homecoming ceremony (a day later than we had planned, and on the Monday Nathan was supposed to be seen.) After fighting with insurance companies all morning, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and did some combination of the both. Anyway by the time we made it back home and had him seen by the doctor here, the fracture had slipped. Poor Nathan waited in the hospital all that day for the breakfast I had fed him to clear his system so the doctor could set the arm surgically (now 2 weeks after the initial break). Later that week, he finally had a permanent cast on the arm. He missed 3 weeks of school.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that a kid as healthy as Nathan should not have sustained such a severe injury on his school playground. Nathan drinks milk all the time. He is strong from his gymnastics and soccer, and he is thin. His body can withstand a lot. It couldn't withstand about an 8 foot drop from the monkey bars onto hard dirt. The school nurse told me he was the 3rd kid so far this year to break an arm on those monkey bars. Hello, he was injured in September. Can you say problem? The school teachers and nurse have been great. They love him, they were concerned. But I don't think their playground is safe. You know, it is so hard to see your kids hurting at any time. I think the context of the situation made it worse for me. This didn't have to happen. He didn't have to get hurt. If the playground had been maintained properly, with something to cushion his fall - I'm convinced it wouldn't have been so bad. And, if he had received the treatment he needed at Ft. Riley, maybe he wouldn't have even had to undergo surgery. I have been so angry I've been nearly out of my head! It took about 10 days from the initial injury before Nathan would move that arm away from his body at all. I'm concerned that he also injured his shoulder, although it was never evaluated. All for nothing. In the mean time, our reunion was severely disrupted, as were our vacation plans (hotel with an indoor waterpark). He missed 3 weeks of school, the entire rest of his soccer season, and maybe out of gymnastics semi-permanently (since we are moving after Christmas). His whole life has been disrupted.
So, last week, as we were outside cleaning off the back porch, we noticed that two of our window screens had been adjusted, and both window locks were broken. Someone tried to break into our house. As we checked around, we heard about several cars in the neighborhood that had been burglarized. When we returned today, our Trooper door was open, and there had been several more burglarized cars. Our neighborhood has always been quiet. There are almost never any loud parties, no one speeds through, no MPs called out to break up any family fights. This is one of the most peaceful neighborhoods on post. It's so peaceful here, it's downright idyllic. The large common background area is usually full of kids. The large trees provide shade for even the warmest summer days. We congregate in the backyard - around our patio fireplaces, roasting marshmallows in the evening. This yard, these neighbors - they have been our safe haven and safety net this past year.

I guess it's no wonder I've had some trouble sleeping, and even a nightmare or two. As a parent, I work so hard to keep my kids safe, to minimize risk. With all my work and vigilance, Nathan was still was hurt. And for all the safety that I feel here, in our neighborhood, surrounded by our friends, My family is still vulnerable.

So, today I also heard the news that a friend's daughter was diagnosed this week with a severe, inoperable brain tumor. I can't imagine hearing much worse news than this. Compared to this, a broken but healing arm is hardly worth mentioning (though i managed several paragraphs). Compared to this, what's the loss of a stereo? Talk about a good dose of perspective.

I do want to comment about the whole safety issue, because the ideas have been related to the deployment as well. Here are my observations.
1. Our physical safety is probably an illusion. Who can predict what might happen to us, or to someone we love, or when? I do actually believe that living good clean lives and praying a lot do help keep us safe. Though I think God may have some plans for us that we aren't aware of. And afterall, we are mortal.
2. Threats to our safety and stability (these stressors that make us want to dig in, secure the neighborhood, keep our kids within arm's length) are real. They have real impact on children and adults. My boys, who should be sleeping soundly, are suddenly worried and afraid to go to sleep. I understood this when dad was deployed, but now that he is home, they should be better. They aren't. I should be able to talk to my friends without endlessly rehashing all the trauma. I should be glad to send Nathan back to school, not paranoid I'll get another call from the nurse. I'm not there yet. Deployment was basically an exercise in dealing with constant threats to our family's safety and stability. If I didn't hear from Tracy for a day or two, I started panicking. When he deployed to Baghdad, that was a good 3-4 months of additional stress. And we had it easy. We have friends who haven't been so lucky, whose husbands are deployed in dangerous parts of the middle east, constantly in harm's way. How they function daily is astounding to me. As I've been talking with some of the local school staff, one complaint from teachers and principals has been a handful of families who have trouble sending their kids to school. The parent is deployed, and the non-deployed parent is so stressed and worried they do not regularly keep the kids in school. After this past month, I am starting to understand this kind of thinking better. Sometimes you are so worried and feel so unsafe you go into crisis mode. You keep everyone at home where you know nothing bad will happen to them. Is that the correct response? The school doesn't think so. I'm sure the routine of school is the best place for kids, but I can sure empathize with the parent.

So now I'm going to go start of some socks for my friend's baby, and plan the meal I'm taking to them next week. I'll do yoga and deep breathing. I'll send my kids to school praying they will return safe and sound. I'll have faith that they will be protected, even though I know God may have other plans for them. And I'll hug and kiss them a bit more often. Who would blame me?