“Hello 911 my son has a hole in his head!”
When I was 5 years old I lived at 13980 West 72nd Drive, Unit-D, as in David. I was hanging out with my cousin, Christian in my room. He was 4 years old. Then we decided to go play soccer in the garage. We couldn’t go to the park by ourselves because we were too young at the time. When we got to the garage, we moved stuff out of the way so we had room. We started playing, having a good time and then something happened. We were both going for the ball, but instead of me kicking the ball, I tripped over my cousins foot and hit my head on this two foot high cement ledge. The ridge was all rugged and chipped. I got this hole in my head, like the size of a nickel. I started bleeding instantly and it didn’t stop. I ran inside to my mom, and she flipped out and started asking a lot of questions. Of course, at this time, my mom was eight months pregnant. I was lying on the kitchen floor with a washrag over my head to try and absorb the blood. When my mom called the cops, she didn’t explain what happened very well in detail. She said that there was a hole in my son’s head, and to the cops, they thought it was a bullet hole. At this time, my dad worked as a Jefferson County School bus driver, as well as and Arvada Volunteer firefighter. On his firefighter radio, he heard there was a five year with a possible gun shot to the head13980 West 72nd Drive, Unit-D, as in David. It took him a second to realize that it was our house. At this time, he had just finished his bus route, so he was at the bus terminal. He ran out to his truck and hurried home. On his drive home, he passed the fire truck to get to our house as fast as he could. The fire department and the ambulance were told to stand-by in the area, and wait for the police department to make sure the scene was safe for them. The Arvada police department thought there was a gun on the scene. When my dad gets to the house, he does a fast u-turn right into the parking lot, and ran inside. Right when he got inside he looked at me, and just smiled. My mom was freaking out, even way more than I was. Another volunteer firefighter, as well as a Jefferson county detective, John Healy lived in the same town home complex as we did. Mr. Healy being a good friend of the family realized the scene was safe and told the ambulance crew and fire department to come inside. Once the ambulance crew and the fire department came in, they got me taken care of, to load me into the ambulance as quick as they could. They told my mom and dad that they were taking me to Children’s hospital and one of them can ride in the ambulance with me. My dad decided he would be the one to ride with me. Mr. Healy drove my mom and followed the ambulance down to Children’s hospital, because my mom was too emotional to drive. Once we started to leave the house, the Arvada Police finally showed up. Mr. Healy told them that everything was fine, and there was no gun on scene, for them to declare the scene was clear. When we got to the hospital, they took me to a room to get checked out, and to get x-rays, to make sure there were no skull fractures. I ended up only getting 8 stitches all together. I had 1 stitch inside my head and 7 on the outside. Then after four and a half hours later, I finally got to go back home to go to bed. After about 5 days, I had to go back to get the stitches taken out. This whole incident taught me to be more careful in what I’m playing, as well as what is around that could hurt me.