Well here I am sitting all alone in this hospital room. Kori has been down in radiology for over an hour. It is almost 6:00 p.m. and I still don't have any idea what is wrong. Nobody would tell me anything. I went out to the nurses' desk and asked them if they knew if the doctor had seen my daughter. They said that they would send the doctor in as soon as they could. My husband finally came back after finishing with all of the paper work. He asked me where the baby was and I told him that she was downstairs getting a CT scan and that the nurses told me to wait here in the room. He just looks at me stangely and says, "I'm going to find our daughter." 
About 15 minutes later Clint returned to the room with Kori in his arms. She was sleeping. I hadn't seen her in what seemed like hours! She had the start of an IV. It had been nearly 7 hours and we still knew nothing more than when we arrived. A short while later, a pediatrician comes in and says that she has consulted a neurosurgeon, and that she was waiting to hear his recommendation. All that she told us was that Kori had a build up of fluid in her head and that she didn't know why.
After what seemed like an eternity this neurosurgeon comes in and repeats what the other doctor said. Except this guy is telling me that my baby needs to have surgery so they can drain the fluid from her head. He told us that he didn't like to work on babies (that really reassured me)! He said that we would be in better capable hands at the Children's Hospital in Denver, Colorado. That was all fine and good, but we were in South Dakota in the middle of a bad storm. He said that the life flight team would be up shortly to work out the details. My husband then goes to telephone his boss.
The flight nurse comes in to see what they would need for the transport, she then leaves to get the bassinet. My husband comes back in after the nurse just as she is telling me that I cannot go along. He asks her why and she says that only the military member can go because he had to be available to sign papers immediately at the other hospital, to admit Kori, otherwise, our insurance wouldn't pay for it. (That was a line of BULL, and I know that now). I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I said NO, that I didn't care about the money or how much it was going to cost. She was a breast fed baby, how was she going to eat? She had NEVER been away from me and I didn't really want her to have too much formula because it made her vomit more. The nurse persisted and said sorry, "only Dad can go." She told me that I could catch the next commercial flight out. That flight wasn't until morning, and real iffy at that, because of the storm. My husband just turned and walked out of the room. I don't know who he called or what he said, but I can just imagine.
Clint came back into the room as the nurse was getting Kori ready. I truly felt like a bystander in all of this. It was almost as if I was standing back just observing somebody else's tragedy. It was truly a nightmare. Clint says to the nurse that he has just spoke with the hospital commander, he was wondering why his med-evac team hadn't been notified. The commander said that if life-flight couldn't get a plane up with me on it, with the baby, that he would just as soon as there was a break in the weather. She just looked at him, and then left the room. The nurse returned a few minutes later and stated that there was a break in the weather over the regional airport and that we had to leave NOW. Clint asked if I could go along. She said that that would be all right but that he would have to ride up with the pilot. I really believe that they were trying to keep me behind, because there was plenty of room on that plane, and it wasn't necessary for him to sign any papers. I could have done that. The health professionals just didn't know why she had fluid accumulated in her head. They thought that I had done something to her. I don't think anybody thought that she was born that way. At least, that is how I perceived the whole situation.
