I don't think I ever felt more nauseated. I was pretty sure I was going to start vomiting at any minute, and I knew I just had to keep it together. Some of you have seen me on my worst drunken evenings and even those would not compare. I felt like I had just taken the father of my prom date's car and wrecked it. "Why did it have to happen on my watch?" I kept asking myself. Why did I have to be the one to make the phone call? How did Anna Grace end up bleeding so much under my care?
Yep, I was responsible for the 1st dent on the new car that is my daughter. On Friday the 13th, perfect date, she received her first stitches. I made reference to her newfound mobility in my last post. She is a mobile terror now and she keeps ending up places you don't expect. Even when you are watching her intently she just materializes in places you don't expect and can't predict. Well this time she ended up under me and the recliner. That's when the real fun began.
Fortunately I had already gotten into the habit of checking out my immediate floor space before I move or kick the recliner stool in. If I had not looked I might have actually amputated her right index finger. But instead I tried to coax her out of her cave and had zero success. So I had to resort to crawling over the side. When I did so the recliner rocked and I heard the scream.
At first glance I thought I had crushed her finger; good thing a 5 month old has cartilage and not true bone for fingers. What I had had managed to was trap her finger in the scissor mechanism of the foot rest. If you can picture two pieces of metal trapping your finger hard enough for the skin to explode open then you have the right idea. I was able to pull the pieces apart and free her finger, but not before the damage had been done. And, not before I realized I was in big trouble!
Nothing I have ever seen or been a part of in EMS could have prepared me for the flood of thoughts and feelings that ran through my brain. I even thought about calling 911 a couple of times. Yes, I was almost THAT hysterical parent. However, I was able to take a deep breath and make the following things happen:
2. I changed her diaper. Right before the accident she went through the normal "weightlifter squatting 200 more pounds than they ever have before" grunting and I knew she was ripe.
3. I put together a diaper bag full of food and two changes of clothes.
4. I panicked for the 2nd time in three minutes.
5. I actually thought this thought..."Can I take her to Scottish Rite and get it fixed without telling Emilee and see if she notices."
6. I bandaged the screaming, flailing, kicking, and bleeding like a stuck hog 5 month old without assistance or tying her down.
7. I threw up in my mouth a little bit.
I did all of this in about 5 minutes. I had her in the car seat and we were out the door. The whole time I was running through my head what I was going to say to Emilee, and then the phone rang...and the explaining began.
To Emilee's credit she handled it way better than I did until she saw Anna Grace and then she lost it. But who wouldn't when you see your kid hurt and getting stitches. She took all five of them like a champ and they come out this coming Monday. Everything appears to be healing well and we have all learned a vial lesson on the mobility and possible destination of our little injury magnet. I pray to God she did not get that trait from me or we are in for a long childhood and a frequent flyer card at the Emergency Department.
Stay Safe,
Rob
PS - Looking back at some events can lead to humor inside of the pain. Just after I had managed to get the first bandage (toilet paper) into Gracie's fing
er she jammed the whole thing in her mouth. When I looked back at her it looked as if a lioness had just made a fresh kill! There was blood everywhere and she had stopped crying long enough to have a big toothless grin on her face. I wish I had a film crew with me at the time.
