I would love to report that the first real day of second semester went smoothly, but that just wouldn't happen to me now would it?
It started out with a bang! I'm putting on my shoes in the living room and Scott is dressing and loading four sleeping boys into the van. He's down to the last one when I hear...WHACK...ERIN GET IN HERE... ERIN HURRY...THERE'S BLOOD EVERYWHERE...I'M SO SORRY TOMMY...
This amazing thing happens to me in these situations. I curtain of calm falls all around me. Not just calm, really really calm. I can think straight, delegate, and prioritize. Priority number one, assess the victim, priority number two calm down the hysterical husband.
Tommy looks at me through the blood that's dripping into his wide eyes. I tell him he's fine, I don't really know that but Scott's worrying enough for all of us right now, I don't need poor Tommy to get scared. I instruct Scott to grab a towel. There's too much blood to get a good look. I apply pressure and talk to Scott. Take a deep breath and tell me what happened. Pausing 19 times to apologize, the events tumble out. He picked up Tommy and threw him over his shoulder to carry him out except he threw him a little high, directly into the twirling blades of the ceiling fan (high speed of course). Whoops!
I checked the spot, still too much bleeding to see anything. I did a one handed neuro check and called for the first aid kit. Our kit is actually a pimped out old tackle box. It's basically an ICU in a box. I'm really not joking. I would have brought home a suture kit if I could have legally obtained some local anesthetic. I was well stocked to say the least.
I lift the towel one more time and it's slowed enough to see that the gash was deep, probably as deep as you can get on a forehead. I reassured Tommy again and Gavin came in from the van. He observed from the bedroom doorway, told Tommy, "it'll be OK" and then told me he'd babysit the little boys in the van. How mature! I love eight year olds.
I looked at Scott, still overly anxious, but no longer jumping around, and ask what his plans were for the morning. I knew I couldn't miss anymore time from school without being kicked out of the nursing program and I already knew his answer. He owns a Fed Ex route and sick days and emergencies really aren't an option unless they're preplanned. As usual, no planning or forethought went into this latest mishap. That being said, be extra nice to your Fed Ex man today if you get any packages and if you notice blood on his hands, don't comment.
I had no time to sit around weighing the pros and cons. We were late. bleeding and now I had blood all over my scrubs. This is when I hate being a mom. Making decisions when no one is going to win, when there isn't a right answer. I didn't put my family through hell for the last 9 mos just to let it be a waste of time when I'm dismissed from nursing school. There is no back up driver for Scott and the packages pile up and customers complain and we lose money if they aren't delivered immediately. I guess everyone loses today!
I thoroughly cleaned, bandaged and pressure dressed the wound in a sterile fashion (thanks Mrs Marshall) and reassessed. I assured Scott for the millionth time that he wasn't going to win worst dad of the year for this and kissed him goodbye. We loaded up in the van and headed South. Either to Mrs Tammie's (daycare/2nd mother) or the ER. I would decide when we got closer. By the time we got to Tammie's, it still hadn't bled through the dressing so I unloaded the kids and brought them inside. I did another quick assessment and explained the incident to Miss Tammie. She didn't even bat an eye. This is one of the many reasons we love her. We would have been kicked out of a real daycare a long time ago. I gave her instructions and told her to call me if she couldn't get the bleeding to stop.
I left feeling like the worst mom in the world. This is a common feeling these days. Luckily I made it through six hours of labor and delivery clinicals without receiving a page to the emergency room. I did receive however receive hourly picture texts showing me the status of the dressing.
We made it home just as a huge storm rolled in and knocked out our power for the next six hours. I had to do my last dressing change by the light of the I phone flashlight app. Thanks Apple, this app really comes in handy when you live in a house with nine flashlights and no batteries.
I'm happy to report the wound is healing nicely and even open to air today. To add to my list of charity patients, during our power outage, Finn cut his foot pretty bad on a glass he smashed in the dark kitchen. Business is good at Erin's Emergency Wound Care Clinic.
Most of you that know me are probably scrolling down to find the picture as you know I would classify a good head wound as a fabulous photo op. However, Scott mentioned to me yesterday that he left our camera charger in Wisconsin on his last vacation.
Hmmmmm...
Maybe need to reconsider that Father of the Year nomination.
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