Chapter 3 - Why Elodie Was in the Hospital
Elodie had been tired for months.
That sentence sounds harmless.
Children get tired.
School.
Growth.
Viruses.
Life.
Her mother, my wife Catherine, had died two years earlier from complications after a car crash.
Not instantly.
Six days in intensive care.
Then death.
Elodie was five.
Afterward:
Nightmares.
Clinginess.
Stomachaches.
School refusal for a while.
Therapy helped.
So when she began saying:
“My chest feels funny.”
I initially heard grief.
Not because I thought she lied.
Because bodies and emotions are not separate.
Her pediatrician first suspected anxiety too.
Reasonably.
Physical exam normal.
Routine labs normal.
Then Elodie fainted during recess.
Not dramatic.
She crouched.
Then collapsed.
School nurse found heart rate elevated.
By the time I arrived:
Normal.
Emergency department ECG:
Nonspecific.
No clear diagnosis.
We followed up.
Pediatric cardiology.
Holter monitor.
Nothing definitive during that window.
Then episodes increased.
Palpitations.
Shortness of breath.
Grayish lips after exertion once.
That one changed everything.
A second cardiologist ordered more testing.
Echocardiogram showed concern for right-heart strain.
Then chest imaging.
More bloodwork.
Six days before Bernice dragged her from bed, Elodie had another episode at home.
She walked upstairs.
Reached landing.
Stopped.
Said:
“Daddy, my heart is jumping.”
Then collapsed against wall.
Still conscious.
Breathing fast.
Her oxygen saturation at the emergency department was low.
She was admitted.
The team suspected a cardiac-pulmonary process.
Not yet finalized.
That uncertainty became fertile ground for Bernice.
Because between episodes, Elodie looked almost normal.
She could talk.
Laugh.
Color.
Complain about hospital food.
Stand briefly.
Then ten minutes later, walking twelve steps made her heart race and oxygen dip.
Illness that fluctuates is hard for controlling people.
They prefer visible injury.
Broken bone.
Cast.
Blood.
Something undeniable.
Bernice had spent two years believing Elodie’s body translated emotional need into symptoms.
Sometimes she was even partly right.
Elodie had experienced real anxiety after Catherine died.
But anxiety and medical illness can coexist.
My mother turned one possibility into a universal explanation.
May you like
And because she spoke with certainty, I had sometimes let her.
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