Deutsch im Anschluß...
Dear Huzaifa and Dear Abdullah,
I am very pleased about your selection and will follow the course closely. I already wrote in your application that I was a first aider in some situations and that I generally feel quite fit thanks to various first aid courses over the years. Nevertheless, the enormous changes in the field of emergency procedures are astonishing and the constant new findings lead to a need for further training, no question. So thank you for keeping us up to date!
I am taking part in the first task of your course with mixed feelings; I will tell you about the worst emergency I have experienced. I can do this in the knowledge that everything turned out very, very well. Live it was hell...
At the same time, I would like to ‘warn’ you in advance that I will not fulfil various subtasks and will be happy to explain why not. If that makes your obligation a little easier, I disqualify myself in advance ;-)) So I'm just writing a blog post that happens to correlate with your project ;-)))
It was spring 1998, a very mild day in early May. We, my two children at the time and I, lived on a farm in a secluded location, about seven kilometres from the nearest settlement, in the east of Brandenburg. My daughter was 5 1/2 years old and was looking forward to starting school in the summer, my son was 2 years old and already special at the time: a gentle child with autistic traits. We also had two horses on the farm and a young Rottweiler who shared (and guarded) my son's baby blanket and never left his side.
That morning, as so often, I heard the door bang early and my son running outside to pick flowers, watch butterflies or collect snails. It was a paradise! That morning, immediately afterwards, a scream rang out, the likes of which I had never heard before and never want to hear again. It was mortal fear roaring out of a child's throat.
Everything stoppinng and running out was one. Hearing our dog barking like mad and taking in the scene outside in a single glance: two huge strange dogs - later I found out they were Mastino-Napoletanos from the neighbouring single farm about 3 kilometres away - were about to tear my baby apart! They bit into the head and upper body and tore at the little body, shredding it all over the yard and I saw blood and shreds of skin. All the while these shrill screams.
Our dog attacked the slightly smaller female dog furiously, I realised that he was keeping her at bay. I was able to take care of the male dog. With a screwdriver, which I pushed into his collar, I cut off his air. He was unconscious quite quickly.
I hurriedly carried my whimpering little son into the house. My daughter had obviously watched the whole thing from the front door; I couldn't recognise any emotion in her. I put the phone in her hand and let her make the emergency call (we had practised this early on).
My son's scalp was hanging down in shreds and his ears were missing. He also had several bites to his upper body, in the lung area. But his breathing sounded fine. He asked, ‘Is it over?’ I told him that the pain would soon be over, that the emergency doctor would give him an injection so that he wouldn't feel anything. I covered his wounds sterilely, but didn't bandage them. Instead, I wrapped him in thick blankets to keep his little body warm in the impending shock.
My daughter came to us and cuddled up to her brother. I was able to go outside for a few seconds and put the dogs on a lead, who were now completely peaceful and seemed rather confused and unsure. I also picked up pieces of the ears that I could find.
When the emergency doctor arrived after a very short time, my son was examined quickly and carefully, then sedated and I knew that at that moment he was no longer in pain and no longer afraid. In the meantime, I had the childminder come for my daughter and went to the hospital after the initial treatment. The emergency doctor suggested that instead of going to the nearest hospital, I should go straight to the accident hospital in Berlin, as they had excellent plastic surgery there.
Of course I agreed and a short time later I was in the emergency room with the little one. I was allowed to stay by his side during the whole procedure. I was asked if they could cut open his shirt. When I asked in astonishment why this ‘stupid’ question was necessary, a sighing nurse explained to me that they were often sued by parents of injured children for damage to property...
My son came out of the operating theatre about six hours later looking like a Tele-Tubbi. Do you know them? It was a completely superfluous invention of children's television in those years, but the resemblance at that moment was just... funny. Yes. I laughed. And my son laughed when he woke up and saw his reflection. We laughed and laughed and laughed. Hysterically. Gratefully. He asked after dinner when the real food would be served... A few hours later, they suggested that we should come to the outpatient clinic every day, as it was annoying that the boy was climbing around on all the hospital beds and trying to balance on the balcony railings...
He was fine. He was very well. He was left with terrible scars, his ears were painstakingly but successfully rebuilt from the cartilage up over 15 years. His best friend is still a dog today. No trauma, as far as I can tell. I only coped with this situation because he made it so easy for me with his radiant happiness and gentleness and ability to simply not suffer but accept. My daughter was never willing to talk about what she witnessed....
My part in the medical care was minimal. I made sure the wound area was clean and reassured the little patient, kept him warm. Nothing seemed more important to me at that moment... And I remained cold-blooded and rational - nothing seems more pointless and useless to me than a panicked helper.
So. That was difficult. To write, perhaps also to read. I would have liked to add a Tele-Tubbi picture, for a rough impression. That was expressly not wanted. I won't be publishing my own photos on this subject.
Your question about what to do at the scene of an accident where you find an injured motorcyclist: doesn't fit at all now, so in brief and completely independent of the protocol presented (first aid is something instinctive and spontaneous for me; you should know what you are doing, but not get lost in formalities...)
At the scene of the accident, I get an overview of the people involved and their position. Car driver - in the vehicle or outside or already removed? Motorcyclist - spinning parts of wheel or engine near him? Is there a panic button on the bike or is it switched off manually? Is he responsive? I talk to him. If I notice the blood and he's conscious, I ask if he's in any more pain. And I take off his helmet. Yes, we used to be taught that this was taboo. Today experts see it differently. And as I ride a motorbike myself, I know how panicky you can get under a helmet, you don't need that in an emergency...
I would treat the wound on the leg, perhaps an injured artery, with a pressure bandage over the combi. Did I call an ambulance in the meantime? Or are there other passers-by who took over? In any case, I check whether there is any leaking petrol and fire hazard from the hot components. There may be enough time to inform a friend or other trusted person of the accident victim's misfortune. The rescue vehicle should arrive at the scene by then at the latest...
You are now asking for a flow chart. I'm sorry, because you won't get one from me ;-)) I don't want to annoy or disrespect you with this; you share the fate of my refusal with pretty much every teacher and professor I've ever had. I hate graphic representations! I do things with words. We have a beautiful and varied language with which you can express anything you need to...
You next ask to participate in an exam a quiz.... I'd like to try that, but I'm failing because of Google Docs. I am boycotting all Google products out of conviction and the questionnaire can only be used with registration...
To fill out the measure of things I don't do according to your rules: I'm certainly not inviting three friends of mine... This is your thing. I'm making it mine because I'm interested. I'm not going to bother anyone else with it, and that's all these forced mentions are. But see above: I've already disqualified myself ;-)) Life is really good without scheme F and checklist ;-))
Please don't let a troublemaker get in the way of what you are offering here: I wish you every success and a large number of participants, to whom you can certainly shed light on one or two things. I'm sure we'll see each other again in this course. Until then...
Deutsche Version:
Lieber Huzaifa und lieber Abdullah,
ich freue mich sehr über Eure Auswahl und werde den Kurs aufmerksam verfolgen. Schon bei Eurer Bewerbung schrieb ich ja, daß ich in einigen Situationen Ersthelferin war und daß ich mich in der Regel dank verschiedener Erste-Hilfe-Kurse über die Jahre recht fit fühle. Trotzdem sind die enormen Veränderungen auch im Bereich Notfall-Prozedere erstaunlich und die ständig neuen Erkenntnisse führen zu Nachschulungsbedarf, keine Frage. Also: danke, daß Ihr uns auf dem Laufenden haltet!
An der ersten Aufgabe Eures Kurses nehme ich mit gemischten Gefühlen teil; ich werde Euch vom für mich schlimmsten der erlebten Notfälle erzählen. Das kann ich in dem Bewußtsein, daß alles sehr, sehr gut ausgegangen ist. Live war es die Hölle...
Gleichzeitig möchte ich Euch vorab schon "warnen", daß ich verschiedene Teilaufgaben nicht erfüllen werde und gerne erkläre, warum nicht. Wenn das Eure Obligation etwas erleichtert, disqualifiziere ich mich vorauseilend selbst ;-)) Ich schreibe also einfach nur einen Blogbeitrag, der zufällig mit Eurem Projekt korreliert ;-)))
Es war im Frühjahr 1998, ein sehr milder Tag Anfang Mai. Wir, meine zu der Zeit beiden Kinder und ich, lebten auf einem Bauernhof in Alleinlage, etwa sieben Kilometer von der nächsten Siedlung, im Osten Brandenburgs. Meine Tochter war 5 1/2 Jahre alt und freute sich auf die Einschulung im Sommer, mein Sohn war 2 Jahre alt und schon damals besonder: ein sanftes Kind mit autistischen Zügen. Wir hatten noch zwei Pferde auf dem Hof und einen jungen Rottweiler, der die Babydecke meines Sohnes geteilt (und bewacht) hat und ihm nie von der Seite wich.
An diesem Morgen hörte ich, wie so oft, schon früh die Tür klappen und meinen Sohn nach draußen rennen, um Blumen zu pflücken, Schmetterlinge zu beobachten oder Schnecken zu sammeln. Es war ein Paradies! An diesem Morgen ertönte unmittelbar darauf ein Schrei, wie ich ihn zuvor nie gehört habe und nie wieder hören möchte. Es war Todesangst, die aus einer Kinderkehle herausbrüllte.
Alles stehen und liegen lassen und hinaus rennen war eins. Unseren Hund wie wahnsinnig bellen hören und die Szene draußen mit einem einzigen Blick erfassen: zwei riesige fremde Hunde - später erfuhr ich, Mastino-Napoletanos vom benachbarten Einzelhof in etwa 3 Kilometer Entfernung - waren dabei, mein Baby zu zerreißen! Sie bissen in Kopf und Oberkörper und zerrten an dem kleinen Körper, fetzten ihn über den ganzen Hof und ich sah Blut und Hautfetzen. Dabei immer diese gellenden Schreie.
Unser Hund attakierte wütend die etwas kleinere Hündin, ich erkannte, daß er sie in Schach hielt. Ich konnte mich um den Rüden kümmern. Mit einem Schraubenzieher, den ich in sein Halsband schob, drehte ich ihm die Luft ab. Er war recht schnell bewußtlos.
Ich trug meinen nur noch wimmernden kleinen Sohn eilig ins Haus. Meine Tochter hatte das Ganze offensichtlich aus der Haustür mit angesehen; ich konnte keine Gemütsregung bei ihr erkennen. Ich drückte Ihr das Telefon in die Hand und ließ sie den Notruf absetzen (das hatten wir schon früh geübt).
Meinem Sohn hing die Kopfhaut in Fetzen herunter und es fehlten die Ohren. Außerdem hatte er mehrere Bisse in den Oberkörper, im Bereich der Lunge. Die Atmung hörte sich aber gut an. Er fragte: "Ist es vorbei?" Ich habe ihm gesagt, daß die Schmerzen bald vorbei sein werden, daß der Notarzt ihm eine Spritze geben würde, damit er nichts mehr merkt. Seine Wunden habe ich steril abgedeckt, aber nicht verbunden. Statt dessen hüllte ich ihn in dicke Decken, damit der kleine Körper warm bleibt im sich ankündigenden Schock.
Meine Tochter kam zu uns und kuschelte sich zum Bruder. Ich konnte ein paar Sekunden nach draußen gehen und die Hunde anleinen, die nun ganz friedlich waren und eher verwirrt und unsicher wirkten. Außerdem sammelte ich Stücken der Ohren auf, die ich finden konnte.
Als der Notarzt nach sehr kurzer Zeit eintraf, wurde mein Sohn schnell und vorsichtig untersucht, dann sediert und ich wußte, in dem Moment hatte er keine Schmerzen mehr und keine Angst. Für meine Tochter hatte ich derweil die Tagesmutter kommen lassen und fuhr nach der Erstversorgung mit ins Krankenhaus. Der Notarzt schlug mir vor, statt in die nächstgelegene Klinik direkt ins Unfallkrankenhaus in Berlin zu fahren, da es dort eine hervorragende plastische Chirurgie gäbe.
Natürlich willigte ich ein und war wenig später mit dem Kleinen in der Notaufnahme. Ich durfte während des ganzen Ablaufs an seiner Seite bleiben. Ich wurde gefragt, ob man sein Hemd aufschneiden dürfe. Als ich verwundert fragte, warum denn diese "dumme" Frage nötig wäre, erklärte mir eine seufzende Schwester, daß sie recht oft von Eltern verunfallter Kinder verklagt werden, wegen Sachbeschädigung...
Mein Sohn kam nach ungefähr sechs Stunden aus dem OP-Saal und sah aus wie ein Tele-Tubbi. Kennt Ihr die? Das war eine komplett überflüssige Erfindung des Kinderfernsehens dieser Jahre, aber die Ählichkeit war in diesem Moment einfach... lustig. Ja. Ich lachte. Und mein Sohn lachte, als er aufwachte und sein Spiegelbild sah. Wir lachten und lachten und lachten. Hysterisch. Dankbar. Er fragte nach dem Essen, wann es denn nun das richtige Essen gäbe... Ein paar Stunden später schlug man uns vor, doch besser jeden Tag ambulant in die Sprechstunde zu kommen, da es lästig wäre, daß der Junge auf allen Krankenbetten herumkletterte und versuchte, auf dem Balkongeländer zu balancieren...
Es ging ihm gut. Es ging ihm sehr gut. Er hat schreckliche Narben zurückbehalten, seine Ohren wurden über 15 Jahre mühselig, aber erfolgreich vom Knorpel an wieder aufgebaut. Sein bester Freund ist auch heute noch ein Hund. Kein Trauma, so weit ich das beurteilen kann. Ich habe diese Situation nur bewältigt, weil er es mir so leicht gemacht hat mit seinem strahlenden Glück und der Sanftheit und der Fähigkeit, einfach nicht zu leiden, sondern zu akzeptieren. Meine Tochter war nie bereit, über das zu sprechen, was sie mit angesehen hat...
Mein Anteil an der medizinischen Versorgung war minimal. Ich habe für eine saubere Wundumgebung gesorgt und den kleinen Patienten beruhigt, ihn warm gehalten. Nichts schien mir wichtiger in diesem Moment... Und ich blieb kaltblütig und rational - nichts scheint mir sinnloser und unnützer zu sein als ein panischer Helfer.
So. Das war schwierig. Zu schreiben, vielleicht auch zu lesen. Ich hätte gerne ein Tele-Tubbi-Bild hinzugefügt, für einen ungefähren Eindruck. Das war ausdrücklich nicht erwünscht. Eigene Fotos dazu werde ich nicht veröffentlichen.
Eure Frage nach dem Verhalten am Unfallort, an dem man einen verletzten Motorradfahrer auffindet: paßt jetzt überhaupt nicht, deshalb in aller Kürze und ganz unabhängig von dem vorgestellten Protokoll (Erste Hilfe ist für mich etwas Instinktives und Spontanes; man sollte wissen, was man in etwa tut, aber sich nicht in Formalien verlieren...)
Am Unfallort verschaffe ich mir einen Überblick über die Beteiligten und ihre Position. Autofahrer - im Fahrzeug oder außerhalb oder bereits entfernt? Motorradfahrer - drehende Teile von Rad oder Motor in seiner Nähe? Gibt es einen Panikknopf am Bike oder stellt man es manuell aus? Ist er ansprechbar? Ich rede mit ihm. Wenn ich das Blut bemerke und er bei Bewußtsein ist, frage ich nach weiteren Schmerzen. Und ich nehme ihm seinen Helm ab. Ja, wir haben früher gelernt, das wäre tabu. Heute sieht man das anders. Und da ich selber Motorrad fahre, weiß ich, wie panisch man werden kann unter dem Helm, das braucht man nicht bei einem Notfall...
Die Wunde am Bein, vielleicht eine verletzte Schlagader, würde ich mit einem Druckverband über der Kombi versorgen. Habe ich währenddessen einen Notarzt gerufen? Oder sind da noch andere Passanten, die das übernahmen? Ich checke jedenfalls, ob es irgendwo austretendes Benzin und Feuergefahr durch die heißen Bauteile gibt. Eventuell reicht die Zeit, um Freundin oder sostige Vertrauenspersonen des Unfallopfers von seinem Unglück zu informieren. Spätestens dann sollte das Rettungsfahrzeug vor Ort eintreffen...
Ihr fragt nun nach einem Flußdiagramm. Das tut mir leid, denn von mir bekommt Ihr keins ;-)) Ich will euch nicht ärgern oder mißachten damit; Ihr teilt das Schicksal meiner Verweigerung mit so ziemlich allen Lehrern und Professoren, die ich jemals hatte. Ich hasse grafische Darstellungen! Ich mache Sachen mit Wörtern. Wir haben eine schöne und variantenreiche Sprache, mit der man alles nötige ausdrücken kann...
Ihr fordert als nächstes zur Teilnahme an einer Prüfung einem Quiz auf... Das wollte ich gern versuchen, scheitere aber an Google Docs. Ich boykottiere aus voller Überzeugung alle Google Produkte und das Formular ist nur mit Anmeldung nutzbar...
Um das Maß der Dinge, die ich nicht entsprechend Eurer Regeln erledige, voll zu machen: ich lade gewiß keine drei Freunde von mir ein... Das hier ist Euer Ding. Ich mache es zu meinem, weil es mich interessiert. Jemand anders werde ich damit nicht belästigen, und nichts anderes sind diese erzwungenen Mentions. Aber siehe oben: ich habe mich ja bereits selber disqualifiziert ;-)) Es lebt sich echt gut ohne Schema F und Ckeckliste ;-))
Laßt Euch bitte nicht von einer Querulantin beirren in dem, was Ihr hier anbietet: ich wünsche gutes Gelingen und eine Vielzahl von Teilnehmern, denen Ihr bestimmt das eine oder andere erhellen könnt. Wir lesen uns bestimmt noch einmal in diesem Kurs. Bis dahin...!
The emotional rollercoaster I experienced reading this entire post is something I don't think I can properly put into words. I'm so relieved that your son was in the right hands at the hospital and that his condition turned out to be stable.
Boys and girls tend to process emotional trauma differently, and I’m sure your daughter still suffered from PTSD, especially since she didn’t want to discuss the horrific scene she witnessed with her brother.
One of the most impactful parts of your blog was reading how you kept your cool. This is one of the most important protocols we’re taught in our early years at med school—to stay composed in critical situations. It’s one reason why many top surgeons seem to lack emotion; they need to maintain a calm and collected mindset to handle emergencies effectively.
In cases of car or bike accidents, the first step is always to ensure your own safety. In Pakistan, it takes less than 10 seconds for a crowd to gather, which can compromise safety. I’ve seen instances where people are trampled by onlookers.
Not all situations are the same, but if you witness an accident and see someone lying on the ground, covered in blood, whether conscious or unconscious, you shouldn’t move them on your own. Maintaining C-spine stability is crucial—moving the person could cause spinal injury and potentially be fatal.
Clearing obstructions from the airway is a top priority. When calling an ambulance, don’t do it yourself; instead, point to a specific person and ask them to make the call. Vague requests can often go unheeded. Also, if you notice the person is wounded by something sharp, like an instrument, avoid removing it, as it may be blocking blood from leaking out of an artery. Removing it could be fatal. It’s also essential to disperse any crowd that gathers. You need to be cold, bold, and confident—assert that you’re a first aider and may be able to help.
Regarding the flowcharts and the Google form, I’m sure Abdullah will evaluate your entry based on the criteria provided.
This was an incredibly engaging post, and I wish you and your children good fortune.
I wasn't annoyed neither did I feel any disrespect. Infact it felt good to read a post different than what we're used to :))
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Good morning! Thank you so much for your warm words! We are doing well. We can cope with everything. That's a great realisation...
As far as my daughter is concerned, I think similarly... She has shown no emotion at all in various situations where strong feelings were to be expected. I am sure that there is something dormant that may become problematic at some point.
You've been to Germany yourself and you have an idea of how unlikely it is to be trampled to death by a crowd of people here... So in the event of an accident, it is even more likely that if there are passers-by, they will drive past indifferently... Besides, you know a lot about me - there are no crowds where I'm travelling. In an emergency situation, I am in all likelihood always alone.
I understand your concerns about the movement of a casualty. However, I would find it particularly worrying if a biker panicked and tried to get rid of the helmet himself. In doing so, he moves more uncontrollably and causes greater damage. Incidentally, this has also been the recommendation of local emergency doctors for several years. Exposing the airway, shock positioning or the recovery position will also require movement in most cases. Motorcyclists usually either lie under their bike or are thrown.
Complex, everything. I think it's important not to remain inactive. To be attentive and listen to the instincts we have. Do we do things wrong? Of course! That's okay. Because you might have done something else right ;-))
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Was für ein Horror! Ich frage mich, was muss in den Hund bzw. in die Hunde gefahren sein, um in einen fremden Garten zu springen und dort ein unschuldiges Kind anzufallen? Ich meine, auch Tiere handeln in der Regel nicht ohne Grund. Vielleicht fiel dein Sohn in das Beuteschema?
Wie auch immer, deine Reaktion - wow! Trotz der Hölle, Hauptsache es ist letztendlich gut ausgegangen.
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Das haben wir später erfahren... Die beiden wurden 7 Jahre als Kettenhunde gehalten, wenig mehr als gefüttert, ohne Bezug zu ihren Menschen... Das war der Tag, an dem sie die längst rotige Kette durchgescheuert hatten. Mastinos gehören wohl zu den Hunden, die, wenn sie "durchgehen", stur geradeaus laufen, ungeachtet aller Hindernisse. Und da war dann unser Zaun... Unseren Hund gerochen, drüber gesprungen. War keine Festung. Auf dem Hof waren sie wohl so lange neugierig und friedlich, bis das fröhlich quietschende Kleinkind ums Eck gerannt kam...
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First of all, I am truly sorry for all that happened to you and your child. I am grateful to God that your child is doing well now, and I wish him all the happiness in life.
Reading your post was quite difficult for me, as I am a very emotional person. People often say that, as doctors, we need to cut ourselves off from the emotional aspect so that we can treat patients more effectively. They believe that by removing the emotional component, we can approach patient care with less complication. However, there are also those who believe in the importance of sympathy and empathy, placing the emotional component at the forefront. They argue that if you cannot feel what your patient is going through, you might never give them your best. If you imagine the same thing happening to your own child, parent, sibling, or someone very close to you, the treatment could be different. If not, then perhaps, as a doctor, you've missed something fundamental.
Although I could never fully understand what you went through with your son, as a human and an emotional person, my heart breaks every day seeing hundreds of helpless patients in the hospital.
Regarding your thoughts on maintaining proper protocols during an emergency, I used to think similarly until I truly understood their importance. In emergency situations, doctors instinctively try their best to save the patient—some focus on stopping the bleeding, others handle other critical aspects. However, over time, with the collective experience of doctors, researchers conducted countless trials and analyses to see which methods truly made a difference. Through these studies and reviews, they established solid protocols, which we also refer to as guidelines.
Each protocol represents the combined experiences of numerous medical professionals to ensure the best possible patient care. Life is too short for one person to gain such comprehensive experience on their own. The protocols are developed so that the most essential, life-saving steps are performed first, followed by other important actions. I know it can seem challenging to follow a strict protocol in the middle of an emergency and panic, but with continuous practice, you eventually don’t have to consciously think about each step. Instead, your instincts will guide you to perform the correct actions, providing better support for your patient.
Even if your post had not been disqualified from the Steemit Learning Challenge, it is beyond grading. I could never have graded such a deeply emotional post. As an empath, I’d give you a 10 for it. Sending all my best wishes for you and your son
regards,
@abdu.navi03
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You are very kind - thank you very much for the detailed explanation and for being so empathetic!
Thank you also for the very favourable symbolic assessment ;-))
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Ich muss jetzt mal kräftig durchatmen. Ist schon harter Tobak.
Ich möchte nicht in dieser Situation gewesen sein... naja, du ja auch nicht.
Aber wie du schon hervorgehoben hast, kann man nur instinktiv handeln. In dieser Streßsituation bewusst das Richtige zu machen, fällt wohl fast allen nicht leicht. Leider kann man es eben auch nicht häufig genug üben. Und selbst dann ist es anders als ein realer Unfall.
Respekt den Ärzten, die deinen Sohn wieder "zusammengesetzt" haben!
Richtig, für den Hinweis auf den Kurs braucht es keine Einladung, lesen reicht schon. Ich bin jedenfalls jetzt im Bilde und werde mal reinschauen.
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Ja, noch heute löst die Erinnerung körperliche Reaktionen bei mir aus, mit denen ich nicht gerechnet hatte... Ja, darum empfehle ich wirklich, in so einem Moment vor allem auf die Instinkte zu hören, die wir haben. Haben wir!
Für grundlegendes Wissen bin ich unabhängig davon immer zu haben.
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I feel so sad about what happened to your 2 years old kid. Seriously, i really don’t know if I will be able to keep myself calm after witnessing such horrific accident happening to my baby boy!! The chances of me panicking after securing my kid from the dogs are really high.
Your boy is an angel.. in the midst of all the chaos, he was still happy as if nothing ever happened to him…. Thank God, the surgery was successful. Now that he’s all grown up, I don’t think he’ll remember all this again..
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Oh, he remembers every detail. And that's completely fine with him. He told on later visits to the doctor (where the doctors liked to keep mum waiting outside the door) that I was allowed into the operating theatre for the ‘really bad operation’ and that it had to be that way ;-)) He looks at the photos that were taken for the insurance company and has no problem with them. For him it's over, but not erased. We still laugh together about a scar on my shoulder: his injuries were stitched with KatGut, which dissolves itself so that no stitches need to be removed. With one exception: the fixation of the drainage bags. The doctor said that the pulling itself would be very short but very painful. An anaesthetic, on the other hand, would cause more discomfort for the child. So I took the little one astride my lap and the doctor pulled the tubes out of his head with a jerk and very skilfully. My son has always had great reflexes and bit my shoulder with all his might. Since then I know that human bites heal much worse than animal bites ;-))
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Not entirely related.... In 2014, there was a terrorist attack in one of the schools in my country. Over 132 kids died (ages roughly between 5 to 18). My mom used to watch news and cry whole day watching those innocent faces. I was also a little shook by the incident but not as much as my mom. Three years later when I had my first child, I truly understood what my mom felt at that time. Now I can't watch graphic or written content which involves any kind of oppression on kids, my heart pangs. I inadvertently start relating it to my kids. But I'm glad I read your blog because otherwise I wouldn't have learned how to react in such situations. I panic a lot but I guess if kids are involved, every mom would try to do something like you did.
You are a brave woman. Tears of joy were building in my eyes when I read about your son's recovery.
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Oh, he's doing really well! This ability to accept things without frustration, regret or shame - I would like to have that too.
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postingan yang sangat informatif, apa yang pernah terjadi kepada anda 15 tahun yang lalu, mungkin akan menjadi pelajaran kepada pengguna steemit untuk saat ini dan ke depan.
Jujur saya sangat sedih membaca postingan anda, saya juga meneteskan air mata, seperti saya bisa merasakan apa yang terjadi kepada anda dan kepada kedua anak anda. Namun,,,semua itu adalah kehendak Tuhan , semua atas kuasanya buah hati anda bisa selamat , dan bisa hidup bahagia sampai sekaranag. Itu semua karena campur tangan Tuhan melalui anda dan para dokter yang telah menyelamatkan anak anda.
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Maybe it wasn't 15 years ago, but 26 - my son is now 28 and has a good life... Accidents happen. The question is always how we deal with it and how it affects us. I think we handled it well.
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Sadness ...
We live through it ...
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Oh, I would live very well without it too, I think ;-))
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But we can't, that's the problem ... :D
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