Saturday night we had an unexpected trip to the emergency room. Unexpected in that does anyone really expect that a three-year-old running from his father will step on a stainless cookie cutter FACING UP and cut UNDER his middle toe, right to the bone? Maybe I'm just an optimist, but I hadn't seen that cookie cutter since last Christmas. Of course I do have the children that remove all the contents from all the drawers and cabinets when I am at the sink doing the dishes. I wouldn't put it past that little one to find something obscure. Now how it ended up in the running path of an errant child, we'll never know.
His father said he thought it looked like stitches were mandatory. Hmmm. His father has we we consider a "heightened sensitivity" regarding open wounds considering all the ones he had growing up that always seemed to miss the stitches deadline. As such, his scars are stunning. I looked at the toe and instantly thought, "how in the world will they ever stitch in there, up between the pad of his little toe and the pad of his foot?"
It was off to the ER for us but not before we made a quick call to our ever reliable friend who is ALWAYS there in all of our emergencies. We normally like to take our ER visits together as a family but at 9:00 p.m, it is slightly late for The Baby. Our friend dropped everything and came to rescue us. We then fought for 5 minutes about which ER to go to. Do you have any idea how pathetic it is when you can accurately rate multiple emergency rooms in your area?
We got to the ER where there was excessive discussion regarding "to stitch" or "not to stitch." Stitches won.
I'll save you the horror, but it appears someone jumped the gun and started stitching before the numbing medication kicked it. The nurse assured me that he could feel nothing and I felt a rage that only a mama bear can feel. Was she in his body? Did she know? Because I was lying across him to keep him on the table and I could feel his pain. He must have said one hundred times, "Make her go away. Make her go away."
You do the best you can with the information you have. You trust others to make decisions because you know they are more informed than you are. But sometimes you are right and they are wrong. You think your child may never forgive you and then someone shows up with a cherry popsicle and all is right in the world. This being a mom thing stinks sometimes.