Cause you had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
~"Bad Day", Daniel Powter
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
~"Bad Day", Daniel Powter
Yesterday, picked up the boys from preschool, ran a few errands, drove home.
"Owen, AJ - do NOT get out of the car until you have your backpacks and lunchboxes" - the same thing I say to them EVERY Monday-Wed-Friday.
I turn off the engine, toss my keys, wallet, phone on the front seat and go grab the mail while the boys gather up their stuff from the back. I come back, flipping through the junk mail and bills as O and A are walking up to the front door. Grab the door handle to pull open the door and get Tyler out. Locked. Pull on the front door. Locked. Realize that the boys have exited the car via the front seat, and locked the car doors in the process.
And shut them.
With the baby inside.
On a 75-degree afternoon.
Stomach drops. Heart rates accelerates. I try not to panic. All I can think of is Ava .
Pull screen off front window, climb inside house, hope to God that Steve-o has left his key somewhere in the house. He hasn't.
Call 9-1-1.
Feel irrirated that operator is so FREAKING CALM while my baby is locked inside a car with temperatures quickly rising. And he's CRYING. My God, he's tearing my heart in half with his crying. Some of the longest 8 minutes of my life until the police officer arrives and jimmies the door open enough to unlock the door.
Baby's fine. Mom was rattled. All is well.
------
Later that day: Open gym at the school in preparation for volleyball tryouts. I jammed my finger blocking a hit.
------
That night, I'm out with a friend, when I get a phone call from Steve-o.
"Owen dropped a glass of milk in the kitchen and it broke and Tyler cut his hand on it and it looks pretty deep"
I stop at the store on the way home to pick up some of that liquid-glue-bandage stuff and some gauze and bandages and come home.
Um. Elww. It IS deep. Really deep. Almost an inch long...slicing lengthwise down his pinky finger. He seems fine - happily munching on a graham cracker while Steve squeezes a wash cloth over the cut. I'm thinking that since he's a baby and his pinky finger is so small it might not be stitch-able, so we try the liquid glue stuff. He cries (stuff stings) and I feel horrible and...did I mention that it won't stop bleeding?? I decide it's best to take him to the ER because it's so deep and it won't seem to clot up. Wrap his finger up, put a mitten over it to keep him from chewing the bandages, and off we go (Tyler and I)
Check into the ER at 9:30.
Don't leave until 1:30.
Apparently cut baby fingers are a LOW level priority compared to all the other wack-jobs in the ER last night who had various ailments such as vague pain in my head and I haven't pooped in 3 days .
Prognosis? His finger is too small to stitch. They apply neosporin, glue, and bandages to hold the cut together, then wrap his entire hand up.
I'm left to wonder why we couldn't have figured this out 4 HOURS AGO.
Whatever.
Come home, put Tyler to bed, go to climb in my bed and....Steve, Owen, and AJ are sprawled across my bed so I grab a pillow and a blanket and head for the couch.
All is well.
Except Tyler and I are a little tired.
And we're glad to have yesterday behind us.
"Owen, AJ - do NOT get out of the car until you have your backpacks and lunchboxes" - the same thing I say to them EVERY Monday-Wed-Friday.
I turn off the engine, toss my keys, wallet, phone on the front seat and go grab the mail while the boys gather up their stuff from the back. I come back, flipping through the junk mail and bills as O and A are walking up to the front door. Grab the door handle to pull open the door and get Tyler out. Locked. Pull on the front door. Locked. Realize that the boys have exited the car via the front seat, and locked the car doors in the process.
And shut them.
With the baby inside.
On a 75-degree afternoon.
Stomach drops. Heart rates accelerates. I try not to panic. All I can think of is Ava .
Pull screen off front window, climb inside house, hope to God that Steve-o has left his key somewhere in the house. He hasn't.
Call 9-1-1.
Feel irrirated that operator is so FREAKING CALM while my baby is locked inside a car with temperatures quickly rising. And he's CRYING. My God, he's tearing my heart in half with his crying. Some of the longest 8 minutes of my life until the police officer arrives and jimmies the door open enough to unlock the door.
Baby's fine. Mom was rattled. All is well.
------
Later that day: Open gym at the school in preparation for volleyball tryouts. I jammed my finger blocking a hit.
------
That night, I'm out with a friend, when I get a phone call from Steve-o.
"Owen dropped a glass of milk in the kitchen and it broke and Tyler cut his hand on it and it looks pretty deep"
I stop at the store on the way home to pick up some of that liquid-glue-bandage stuff and some gauze and bandages and come home.
Um. Elww. It IS deep. Really deep. Almost an inch long...slicing lengthwise down his pinky finger. He seems fine - happily munching on a graham cracker while Steve squeezes a wash cloth over the cut. I'm thinking that since he's a baby and his pinky finger is so small it might not be stitch-able, so we try the liquid glue stuff. He cries (stuff stings) and I feel horrible and...did I mention that it won't stop bleeding?? I decide it's best to take him to the ER because it's so deep and it won't seem to clot up. Wrap his finger up, put a mitten over it to keep him from chewing the bandages, and off we go (Tyler and I)
Check into the ER at 9:30.
Don't leave until 1:30.
Apparently cut baby fingers are a LOW level priority compared to all the other wack-jobs in the ER last night who had various ailments such as vague pain in my head and I haven't pooped in 3 days .
Prognosis? His finger is too small to stitch. They apply neosporin, glue, and bandages to hold the cut together, then wrap his entire hand up.
I'm left to wonder why we couldn't have figured this out 4 HOURS AGO.
Whatever.
Come home, put Tyler to bed, go to climb in my bed and....Steve, Owen, and AJ are sprawled across my bed so I grab a pillow and a blanket and head for the couch.
All is well.
Except Tyler and I are a little tired.
And we're glad to have yesterday behind us.
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7 comments:
Oh. My. Gosh.
Your day has to rank up in my top 5 worst nightmares.
Holy freaking cow. I am so glad everything turned out alright.
girl i am so sorry! i really hope today is much better for you!
I wish I had known sooner! My mom works nights in the emergency room.
But she said you actually made really good time; it could have easily been an 8 or 9 hour wait.
Hope today is so much better!
What a crappy day. So sorry you had to go through all of that. Good thing is that it is over and everyone's fine.
Off subject, but is Tyler's hair red?
To stitch or not to stitch, it's always the question. Then you watch the guys on Jackass and realize that you probably could survive deep cuts without stitches but then there's the chance of infection. But, that might actually rank higher in ER than stitches. My question would be, if you call an ambulance for a cut finger and they take you right back into triage, would they take one look and send you back out to wait in gen-pop?
It's late and I'm tired.
And of course Ty is okay; he's the third is a line of boys--God made him out of rubber so he'd bounce, right?
My question is --- I read that the 'glue' is not used any more because it seals in the infection if there is one - but I guess if they are doing it in the ER - then it must be OK -
Seriously...it never rains but it pours....
my sister was not quite two when she cut the top off her pinky in a door. They stitched it up and she pulled it off again. Now she has the world's weirdest looking pinky.
There is some kind of rule that your kids have to initiate you into things that you have no freakin' idea what to do...
like Charleigh with pnuemonia
Vin with a cracked bone
and Mattie who drank the entire bottle of cough syrup and oh yeah, split her head open...We are well acquainted with the ER.
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