Drama!

Short story:
Amelia fell at the playground and had to go by helicopter to a pediatric trauma unit!

Long story:
Amelia was trying to copy something she had seen an older (and taller) kid do and whacked her head but good on a metal bar. She had a nasty looking bump behind her ear so we called 911. We asked if she had lost consciousness and all the kids said no.

The initial responders (police and local volunteers) did an initial assessment and called for the pros. The paramedics came, and in talking to one of the older kids decided that she may have had 'altered consciousness' and therefore needed to be seen at a pediatric trauma unit. Which we don't have in Ulster County. So they called the medevac in. A freaking helicopter landed on the front lawn of the elementary school and off we went to Albany. Part of me thought it was over the top but the other part of me couldn't help but think "Natasha Richardson" so we went along with this.

When Amelia broke her arm, the first time, Ray went in the ambulance with her while I got the other kids settled. I got to the hospital and she asked why I didn't come. I said "honey you were ok with Daddy" and she said "But you're...my mother!" So I know if I don't get on the freaking helicopter I will officially be World's Worst Mom. I have been on airplanes many many times. Small planes too. But since I had the kids I have developed a mild fear of flying. It doesn't stop me but I worry more than I ever did.

I had to sit in the very front and it's floor to ceiling glass. It made me feel very vulnerable. Like it was easier to fall out somehow. The helicopter took off and I pretty much stopped worrying about Amelia and started worrying that we were all going to die. You know what flying in a helicopter feels like? Rickety. Like you're riding in a rickety piece of crap that is going to fall apart at any minute. It doesn't help that my brain is now retrieving all bits of knowledge about helicopters that it has acquired over the years. The one that it keeps repeating is "In essence, a helicopter is constantly falling." NOT reassuring, brain!

There were a few moments where I wasn't worried about dying and here is what I thought:
1.That the view was spectacular and I feel lucky to live in one of the most beautiful places in the world.
2.That when you look down and see all the teeny tiny cars and monopoly houses and thimble size swimming pools from an airplane you laugh and think "My how small everything looks." But when you are in a tiny glass fronted space high in the sky it also gives you the perspective of how very small we are. We are miniscule. We are atoms in the universe.
3.I found myself reflecting on the nature of faith. In between mentally going for refuge by reciting the same buddhist prayer over and over again, I thought where am I really placing my faith? In the laws of karma, hoping that I have enough merit stored up at that moment so i don't die in a helicopter crash but trying to maintain equanimity so that if I do I will generate a good burst of energy a I go hurtling into my next life? In god? Because I definitely threw a few prayers that way, just to be safe. Or in the secular god, science? I had to have some faith in the capabilities of human engineering, and the diligence of maintenance crews to get in the thing in the first place. Right?

After a very long half hour, we finally landed at Albany med- on the goddam roof no less, one final spectacular burst of anxiety for me. The triage nurse sees us and then we more or less sat around for two hours and a CT scan of her head to find out that she was just fine. I am very, very grateful for that at least. :)

Coda to all this: It takes an hur to get to Albany from where we were. It took the helicopter 12 minutes to get to us, 6 or 7 minutes for us to get on and take off, the trip was 30 minutes. So all of that rigamarole to save 15 minutes tops in a non critical situation.