One particular summer weekday, my three children and I spent the afternoon poolside. As we were packing up, I made sure to keep a special eye on my toddler, Dallas. He was two and half and full of energy. His floaties should have been called wings on account of how active he was. As I pulled his floaties off, I heard a distant scream. With laser focus I kept my eye on this sweet toddler and was almost blocking everything else out.
Upon hearing several more screams, I looked up and realized it was a woman at our pool. At closer surveillance, I saw that a young girl with a limp body was being dragged out of the pool. IT WAS MY DAUGHTER!!!
I made sure my teenage son, Wyatt, stayed with my toddler. As I ran over to gauge the severity of the situation, I was overcome with a numbness. It felt as though my limbs were barely attached. In a split second, I noticed several things: she was completely limp (lifeless, like a rag doll), she was blue, she wasn't breathing.
I dropped to my knees and immediately began CPR. It turned out to be a blessing that I had just heard a speaker teach on CPR the week prior. All that training was fresh in my mind. I just didn't realize how quickly I would put it into practice.
It seemed like a dream. A bad dream. I covered her nose and breathed into her mouth trying to fill her lungs. I administered chest compressions trying to get her heart beating again. I kept trying and kept trying. It seemed like an eternity. No change. I cried and screamed out. I begged for her to not die. I wept and wailed between chest compressions and breathing into her mouth. I felt so desperate.
A man rushed over and about pushed me out of the way. He explained he was an off-duty police officer and began severe and powerful chest compressions. It almost looked as if he could break one of her little ribs. I didn't care. Break her rib and save her life- I thought to myself. He continued and continued to work on her little lifeless body. Suddenly, she began to choke and tons of water flowed from her mouth. Her eyes rolled around and she had regained consciousness.
During the commotion, I had screamed for someone to call 911. By this time, the ambulance had arrived and were ready to take her downtown. It was a long ambulance ride. She was barely coherent and they put an iv in her just in case things didn't go well at the hospital.
As she sat on the gurney in the ER we were visited by many nurses. I was shocked at the looks of disdain and contempt that were directed at me. Some of these health care professionals even voiced their disapproval saying, "You really should get her swim lessons."
WHAT???? I was so confused because Tatum knew how to swim. I had paid for her to get private swim lessons every summer since she was a toddler. How could they be angry at me and accuse me in their whispers of such irresponsibilty? I though I did all I could to provide water safety. Not only was Tatum an excellent swimmer, I kept an eye on her at the pool.
Well, apparently not good enough. So, my investigative mind began to wonder how could this have happened. Towards the end of Tatum's hospital visit, she maintained her mental faculties and began talking. I asked her what happened. She innocently said, "I was in the inner tube and spinning around and around. I started to get dizzy and must have fallen through the hole in the middle."
Aaaaah! That makes sense. So, I write all this to say--- Summer is here. Be careful. Even if you have a good, experienced swimmer, freak things happen. Take care and be watchful. I am thankful for the outcome of this tragic event. And, I'm especially thankful for Tatum's classmate's sister, Morgan, for having the clarity to pull Tatum out of the water.
