Tuesday, September 20, 2011

WWW.Hamsterballsforkids.com

Is it a bad sign that the emergency room doctor at my local hospital recognized Jack and I? And not because we live in the same town or have a mutual friend....it's because I'm the mother of a boy that should live in a bubble. I believe our reintroduction went something like this: "I haven't seen you for a few months....when you were in for stitches right? Let me see how they look....oh, I did good! How have you been?" OMG....really?

The weekend was going well...we were into the second half of Jack's soccer game when he collided with someone and went down on his left arm. Being the experienced parents of Twig Boy, we could tell the minute he fell it wasn't good. Without a word, Tim went across the field and packed up Jack's stuff while Mimi and I packed up the chairs and got the car ready. All without a word. We know the drill. We also have a "system" down now...Tim goes to the hospital when there is an injury with blood that needs stitches. Like the time his front teeth that had just finished coming in, were whacked out with a line drive to the mouth. Boy, can the mouth bleed. Timmy! Or the time he hit his head on the corner of the granite countertop and he needed staples in his head...Timmy! Or even the time he slid across the front lawn making a diving catch and a wood chip split open his knee requiring 10 stitches and a leg brace....Timmy! And yes, I did say a wood chip. Seriously, put this boy in a room with a paper clip for 15 minutes and he'll need stitches.

I handle broken bones. Diving catch on the front lawn...broken arm and 7 weeks in a cast....Kelly! Or how about when I got a call when he was away on a school trip for a week. He made it to the second to last day...I thought we were home free...but no, he fell off a rock and broke two bones in his wrist. Kelly! And now this. His third broken bone in 6 years...apparently, we are on the two year plan.

What I didn't count on was that they would place us in a waiting room right behind the intake desk. Didn't anyone tell the patients that I don't do blood? We are waiting to go in for an xray and this is what I hear:

"Can I help you?"
"I have a little cut"
"A little cut?! Your finger is basically amputated!"

"Come right back here so we can take care of this"
The man's friend says "I have the tip of his finger in this bag"

"Why don't we put this cloth over it so we don't have to look at it?"
"Why is his finger black?"
"Because his finger is dead"
I thought for sure I was going to pass out...while Jack was craning his neck to see the finger in the bag.

I am going to put a pair of ear plugs in my car to take in with me next time....and yes, I am admitting there will be a next time. Unless I am finally able to find a life size hamster ball to keep my boy in.

1 comment:

  1. Poor Jack. I had a poor Meredith in my house. The orthopedic surgeon use to say "Did you park in Meredith's designated parking spot." Two broken wrists, torn ligaments, ruptured tendons, bleeding muscles, concussions. When you give it your all there are bound to be injuries. I hope Jack heals fast!!

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