bouncing back
Our boy was so lucky to survive a 12ft drop
As I sat doing my friend’s nails, the sound of kids’ laughter drifted in through the open window.
‘They’re enjoying themselves!’ I said, smiling.
It was Friday 23 June, and I’d gone round to my friend’s house to do her manicure before a wedding.
Arriving around 6pm with my children Faith, 8, Harry, 6, and James, 4, I got to work in the dining room.
Meanwhile, the children were outside playing happily with my friend’s daughters.
‘Sounds like they’re playing schools,’ I smiled.
We’d just finished up when we heard a loud thud.
‘What’ve they done now?’ I sighed, going to investigate.
Then I heard crying, and Harry ran in, panicking.
‘Mummy! Mummy!’ he bellowed. ‘James has fallen out of the window.’
‘What do you mean?’ I gasped. How had he got upstairs? I thought they were in the garden!
Looking out of the patio doors, I saw James lying on the ground.
Adrenalin pumping, I raced out and scooped him up.
‘Call an ambulance!’ I screamed to my friend as blood ran down James’ face.
James was sobbing as I carried him into the kitchen and sat him on the worktop. ‘Where does it hurt?’ I asked. ‘My wrist,’ he sobbed. He had a big gravel graze on his forehead, too, and blood was gushing from his nose.
Paramedics arrived and put James on an inflatable mattress, holding his head still before transferring him to the ambulance.
‘It’s at least 12ft from that upstairs window,’ a paramedic said.
Frantic, I tried to ring James’ dad – my fiance Chris Cook, 34 – but his phone went to voicemail.
‘James has fallen out of the window,’ I cried. ‘Come to the hospital.’
At Musgrove Park Hospital, James was raced off for treatment.
Within minutes, they’d put in cannulas and secured his airways as he stared vacantly.
‘Can you see the fish poster on the ceiling?’ I asked, trying to keep him awake. But he couldn’t even focus. When Chris arrived, I fell into his arms, too shocked to cry.
Soon after, James’ pupils went like pinpricks and his body started shaking. Then he vomited. ‘He’s having a seizure,’ the doctor said. ‘We don’t know what damage has been done, so we need to put him into a coma so his body can rest.’
Horrendous.
James was taken down
He had a bleed on his brain and a fractured skull...
for a CT scan and it felt like a lifetime before we had answers.
‘He’s got a bleed on his brain and a fractured skull,’ doctors explained to us.
Transferred to Bristol Royal Hospital for Children, James was hooked up to a morphine drip and countless machines.
‘We can’t say what he’ll be like when he wakes up, but he’s been very lucky,’ the nurse said. ‘For now, we need to let him rest and keep him still.’
Then, on the Sunday, I was asked to sign a consent form.
‘We need to drill into James’ skull to insert an electrode into his brain to measure the pressure,’ doctors explained. I broke down. James had a bolt fitted in his forehead to hold the electrode. In the days that followed, I sat by him, willing him to pull through.
Then I noticed fluid coming out of his nose.
‘It’s cerebral fluid,’ the nurse explained. ‘His body has found a way to release the pressure. It’s a good sign.’ Next day, they tried to
wake James,
but he’d developed a chest infection so didn’t respond well.
After a change of medication, they tried again the following day.
Would he know who I was? Would he remember anything? Would he be the same?
Gradually, James’ big, blue eyes flickered open. He still had a tube down his throat, but he somehow let out a weak cry and tried to say ‘cuddle’.
I wasn’t allowed to hug him, but I held his hand.
‘Squeeze if you can hear me,’ I said, heart racing.
As his little hand squeezed, I fought back tears. Then he tried to ask for his dog George and brother Harry.
I was relieved he remembered them.
Doctors found buckle fractures in both wrists, so they were put into splints, and the bolt was removed from James’ head.
Next day, he was moved to a ward. Wobbly at first, with physio he took a few shaky steps. And when he found the playroom, there was no holding him back!
Just 12 days after his accident, James was home. The stitches from the bolt have dissolved, and his wrists have healed.
We’ve noticed a slight difference in his personality – he gets angry more quickly and sometimes has outbursts. But, apart from that, he’s the same bright, bubbly 4-year-old who loves watching Minions.
We found out later that James had sneaked upstairs to wave to the other kids.
We’re lucky he survived. It was just an awful accident, though.
If you’ve got children, installing window catches or safety locks could save a life.
I just hope telling our story will prevent another family going through the same thing.
He’s the same bubbly 4-year-old who loves Minions!