The game started simply enough. The girls were standing on the dugout railing chanting as an excitement began to fill the air. My daughter, Cheyenne, had already reached base previously in the inning on a walk, leaving her standing on first. The next batter came up and laid down a beautiful bunt, and Cheyenne hauled butt to second base. Always the opportunistic one, she was already eyeing third before she hit the bag and, sure enough, they had left the base uncovered while defending the bunt. Without the thought of hesitation, Cheyenne she turned the corner and was going for third when, suddenly the coach pulled her up. Dang, now she was caught in another run-down, or as we call it, a pickle!! For you non-softball readers, this is where the runner gets stuck between bases and the basemen try and run them down, tagging them for an out. Over the course of many seasons, Chey was in more pickles than I've ever seen, a product of her aggressive base running. What's even more amazing is how often she managed to get out of the majority of them, a feat that is rare in the sport. This particularly time Chey forced ten exchanges and the entire Honeybee team divided between second and third base to get the out. She was really working them, just waiting for a mistake to sneak back into the base and avoid the out.
Their catcher received the ball and chased Chey back toward second base when Chey dove for it!! This is where it all started to unravel. Normally when a player slides they time it so the ground slows their momentum just enough that your outstretched hand can sneak in under the tag from the baseman while your body remains out of reach. However, on this day we were playing on Brock’s artificial turf field, of which is like sliding on a slip n’ slide if you are not used to it, and Cheyenne careened into the base like a bowling ball into pins! The catcher tossed the ball simultaneously with the dive and as the tag was being applied, a massive collision occurred knocking the second baseman forward and down onto Chey's neck and back. The impact of Chey's facemask hitting the second baseman's legs was so intense it hyper extended her neck at the same time as the baseman fell.
Cheyenne is a very tough kid, she had been injured many times throughout her playing career! So with that thought in mind, I waited for her to get up and give the okay signal, but instead I saw her kind of roll half onto her right side, away from her stomach, and curl up a little with her left hand covering her face. The first thought I had was that she had injured her mouth. I saw her raise her lower left leg off the ground and kick the turf a couple of times without any attempt to get up. At this point I could tell something was wrong and I had stood up, dumping everything off my lap in the process, and worked to detangle myself from my sleeping bag when the base umpire waved Coach over. As Coach ran to my child, everything had gone quiet and all I could hear was buzzing in my ears. Like I said, Chey had been injured before but this was different. I ran onto the field through the third-base gate as her father came in from the first-base side. Morphing into nurse/mother mode, I instantly threw myself down onto my belly to access the extent of the injury and to comfort my child.
Cheyenne complained of severe pain to her neck and face and was crying and afraid to move. Her right arm was pinned under and behind her body. Somehow in the collision, her legs had ended up pointing at first base, instead of third. I was scared to death, but I couldn't let her see that. My nursing self took over, and I began to check her peripheral sensation and strength in her hands. I was relieved that she could grip and feel everything, even though her right arm was a bit weaker with some numbness present. She had begun to shiver, probably the combination of adrenalin and lying on the cold ground, when someone from our dugout brought a jacket to cover her with. She was still complaining about the severe pain in her neck and back and refused to move her right lower leg or right arm. I heard someone say we should roll her over and I said "no way" and thankfully, just then an Registered Nurse (RN) arrived from another field and backed me up. (There was no force on this earth that was going to move this child until EMS was in control.) It has never ceased to amaze me, over all the years, how people are so quick to just brush injuries off and get on with the game.
The woman took over (thank you dear stranger from the bottom of my heart) and I just laid on the cold ground holding my baby's hand. An ambulance had already been called, so we simply waited. I understand now how a few minutes can seem like an eternity when a loved one is in need. Once EMS arrived, they placed a cervical collar on her neck and we log-rolled her onto a backboard and then to a stretcher. My husband had left the field, and with other parents' assistance, (Love you, Zack and Monica!!) went to gather our belongings together and load them into the car. As we wheeled the stretcher off the field, one of the Honeybees' players came up crying and upset, apologizing as she was apart of the play that injured Chey. The young lady was actually from Dublin and we had known her for years. I remember taking her sweet, beautiful tear-stained face in my hands (yes, you Ms. Morgan,) and telling her it was just an accident and everything would be okay. We hugged and she said they would all be praying for us and I hurried off the field to catch up with Chey. That was the absolute hardest walk I have EVER taken, I still don't know how I kept from totally losing it. Soon enough the EMS personnel loaded Chey into the ambulance and I climbed in before heading off to Weatherford Regional Medical Center where our story really began to take shape.
Part Two next time...
XOXO Make Everyday Count,
Bonnie
Bonnie
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