By: Gail e. Kirkland
Aidan saved his mother’s life with an incredible clever – simply miraculous – response.
This energetic, somewhat shy, bright-eyed toddler, with thick, dark eyelashes (the total envy of any girl) has become a hero larger than life—larger than the Transformer Super Powers with which he plays. Aidan Salsi, a lovable four-year-old, literally saved his mother’s life.
His mom, Mindy, is a Type I diabetic and extremely conscientious about the need to regularly check her blood sugar, to measure her carbohydrates accurately, to enter the information into her glucose meter. This particular Sunday morning in late September, Mindy had followed her typical morning routine: Check the glucose meter (high), drink 2 cups of coffee with breakfast, check Facebook, read emails, reply “OK” to husband Paul’s text at 8:22. “After that ‘OK,’ I don’t remember a thing,” Mindy explained.
The remainder of this remarkable story unfolds through what her son told his dad, the paramedics, his classmates and teachers at Hager Preschool. The hand of God was palpable as Mindy, Paul and Aidan collectively replayed their story.
As with any other normal day, Mindy recalls standing outside Aidan’s room, asking him to pick up his toys before his 9 a.m. feeding. Aidan has a rare condition called neuropathic small intestinal dysmotility. He requires regular injections via a feeding tube. From that point forward, Mindy has no recollection about the incredible, clever—simply miraculous—response from her son. Aidan got his doctor’s kit from the toy chest and began helping his mom. He even brought Optimus Prime, the mightiest of his Transformers, to help lift her from the hardwood floor where she had collapsed, just outside his room. “I was trying to get you up and it didn’t work,” Aidan told his mom, as we sat in the living room, piecing together this amazing story of an even more amazing young boy.
Aidan didn’t stop there. He didn’t become distracted or return to his toys. He climbed up on the soft recliner that gave him access to Momma’s cell phone, which was atop a 5-ft.-tall antique pie safe. He realized that he had “to get Daddy.” He did just that. He called Daddy. Daddy missed the call. Aidan called back.
When Paul answered, he thought his son just wanted to talk, something Aidan liked to do when Daddy was away at work. Yet, Aidan had never been taught how to call Daddy. He had seen Momma call Daddy. Those little brown eyes had seen and learned much more than either parent realized. Aidan had full command of the iPhone: Hit the On button, swipe the window to open, hit the green phone icon, choose favorites, touch Daddy’s name—except Aiden does not know how to read, does not know his numbers.
“Daddy, Momma’s sleeping.”
“Where?”
“On the floor.”
“Try to wake her up.”
“I am sitting next to Momma, rubbing her head.”
Paul instantly knew Mindy would never take a nap and leave their son unattended. Something was wrong, really wrong.
Paul kept Aidan on the phone, talking to him continually, as he hurriedly drove home from his workplace—Domtar on Ragu Drive. When he arrived, the front door was security locked and the only key was in the house. From the front porch, Paul could see Aidan peeking out the big living room window and continued talking to him as he kicked in the sturdy wooden door of the home where Mindy’s grandparents once lived.
Up to this point, Aidan had remained calm. Then he lost it. He began screaming, “Daddy, you’re breaking the door!”
Mindy was still convulsing when Paul reached her. He immediately called 911. He checked her glucose meter. It said, “Too low to read.” This had never happened before. Fire fighters arrived first, but not without minor confusion: Two homes on 20th Street have the same number, one 115 E. 20th and the other 115 W. 20th. Aidan to the rescue again: “Daddy, why are they driving down the street?” Paul ran outside to redirect the fire fighters.
As the first responders began asking questions, Paul politely pointed to his son. “You need to ask him.” Aidan sat there and told paramedics exactly how mommy fell, hit her head, started shaking. He gave them every detail.
Paul stretched out alongside Mindy on the floor as the paramedics began an IV. That way she saw him before she saw the strangers in her home. That added comfort and calm as her blood sugar moved back toward more normal levels.
Once admitted to the hospital, Mindy, still barely coherent, was checked thoroughly—x-rays, blood
work. Nothing was out of the norm. “It cannot be explained,” Mindy said. “I could be in a dead sleep and wake up at 2 a.m. if I feel my sugar dropping.” With this life-threatening episode, she had no forewarning, no symptoms.
What she did have was one amazing son—a son who received a standing ovation from the nurses and doctors at the hospital, a son who garnered praise and high fives from the fire fighters for his heroic action, a son who now has a new fireman’s hat and extra doctor’s supplies for his medical kit compliments of the hospital staff.
Mindy and Paul are careful with what they tell Aidan about this episode. They do not want to scare him. He still thinks his momma was sleeping on the floor. He does know her sugar was so low that his momma could not wake up. He does not know that the paramedics estimate Mindy had only 30-45 minutes before she would have died.
In his sweet, animated child’s voice, Aidan readily tells everyone, “I saved Momma’s life.” Then he bounces off to play with one of his Transformers.