In early May 2012 I received a phone call from Hunter, who was 15 at the time, just as I was getting into my car after work to drive home. He said, "Mom, my nose won't stop bleeding. What do I do?" I gave him instructions and told him I was just leaving work and would see him in a few minutes. (I work less than 3 miles from home.) I didn't think much more of Hunter's bloody nose until my phone rang again and it was the manager of the apartment complex calling me. "Carrie, this is Shelly, I just wanted to give you a heads up of what was going on over here..." I quickly ended the call with Shelly -- and dialed 911.
From Shelly I had learned that Hunter was at his friend Knucklehead's house and Knucklehead, who is a year younger than Hunter, was teaching Hunter how to play "California Knock Out". This "game", first of all, is NOT a "game", it is known by too many names to list, and it is a DEADLY game. As such, I will not list exactly how "California Knock Out" is played, only what is relevant to the injuries Hunter received.
When I pulled in front of Knucklehead's townhouse, I saw Hunter sitting on the front stoop with a big wad of paper towels covering the majority of his face; from his eyes down. Shelly approached me as I got out of my car and told me she heard commotion outside of the office (Knucklehead and his family live next door to the complex office) and stepped outside to investigate. When she saw what was going on, she called me immediately. (I arrived before the paramedics did.)
Knowing Hunter as well as I do, means knowing that he has much difficulty reading social queues so everything about my physical presence -- the look on my face, my voice, my movements -- everything I do has to let Hunter know that everything is okay. That proverbial "poker face". I'm still under the impression that he just has a wicked bloody nose so I'm joking with him until I get up close enough and ask him to move the paper towels so I can have a look at what's going on.
NOTHING. ABSOLUTELY. NOTHING. Prepared me for what I saw when he removed the paper towels from his face. (Paramedics still haven't arrived.)
On the outside I was cool as a cucumber and in complete control. Inside my head however, I was screaming "WTF?! OMG! WTF?! OMG!" over and over...
The National Ski Patroller and Certified Medical Assistant roles fall in behind "Mom" as I continue cracking jokes with Hunter while checking him over. (Where are the paramedics?) Thankfully his nose stopped bleeding, although it looked like it was broken. There were abrasions covering large parts of his face and neck, and he chipped a front tooth. According to Knucklehead and other witnesses, Hunter was unconscious for a period of time.
Finally, the paramedics arrive and after finishing their protocol they load him up and head to the emergency department with me following behind in my car.
Once Hunter and I are settled in the emergency department and are waiting for him to be seen we finally have a chance to talk about what happened. Hunter had no recollection of that particular instance of that "game" yet did remember he and Knucklehead each having a turn just prior to him being felled by it. This day was the only day Hunter had ever participated in this type of activity and it was Knucklehead who introduced him to it.
First off, Hunter at that time was close to 6' tall and Knucklehead around 5'5" tall. Hunter was standing with his back against a brick wall with a cement stoop (in the front of a 2 story townhouse) on his right. Hunter fell UNCONSCIOUS and so hard upon the stoop that Knucklehead's sister, who was in a back bedroom on the second floor, HEARD and FELT Hunter's head hit the stoop.
Hunter could feel the dried blood on his face and the chipped tooth and wondered if I had a mirror in my purse so he could see what his face looked like. I didn't have a mirror, yet I did have my cellphone and with Hunter's permission I captured a few pictures. Hunter also made a video warning kids to NOT try this game. Thankfully, Hunter's nose was not broken, there was no damage to his heart, lungs or ribs and, as far as we know, no harm to his brain.
After Hunter and I returned home from the hospital we walked over to Knucklehead's house. Hunter wanted Knucklehead to know that he was okay and I wanted a chance to speak with Knucklehead's mom. Although she wasn't home that evening, she and I and the kids sat down together a few nights later and she was NOT a happy mom. AT. ALL. Apparently -- and very recent to this event -- she had purposely sat Knucklehead and his sister, who is a year or two younger than he is, down to watch a program regarding this specific "game" so they themselves would NOT play it and so if they saw other kids engaged in this activity they would alert an adult immediately. To say she was livid...
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