(Part II)

At exactly 11:37pm your dad and I heard a loud thud.  Immediately we both knew what had happened. You fell out of bed AGAIN. Just so you know, you fall out of bed occasionally and I find you when I come and check on you before I go to bed. You don’t normally thud like you did tonight, and you always sleep right through it – I find you on the ground with your butt in the air, sleeping soundly on your floor. I scoop you up and put you back in bed.

Well, this night was different.  The thud happened, you screamed, and then started crying hysterically.  I told you I’d be right in to check on you (Truth be told Brynn, I was “indisposed” in the bathroom when you fell and couldn’t come rushing in there.)  I soon came in to see you, and you were already back in your bed.  You looked half-asleep but were whimpering.  I looked at you and said a swear word really really loud.  You freaked out, completely woke up, and your dad came rushing in.

Sweet angel girl, you split your chin open for the fourth time in your six years of life. I don’t know how you manage to do this, but you do. (you’ve also required two separate trips to the er to have your lips stitched up.)  You had blood running all down your chin and onto your neck.

We examined your cut and contemplated whether or not we should take you in, wait til morning, or just leave it alone.  Leaving it alone was quickly ruled out and within about 20 seconds of getting all the blood cleaned off it was determined that I absolutely needed to take you to the ER.

You had to find something fashionable to wear.  I’m serious.  You argued with me about what you were going to wear, as the tears continued to stream down your face. (I got you in a purple sparkly tank top, purple leggings, a gray hoodie, and flip-flops). 

You were nervous that you were going to run out of blood and die.  We promised you that you wouldn’t.

Dad stayed home with Brandon and you and I went on my next adventure of the day.

Much like visiting the doctor earlier in the day, I had grand delusions of getting in and out of the ER quickly…. We walked into the waiting room and it was PACKED. I tried to tell myself that these people were all just waiting for family members. Uh-huh.  It was now just after midnight.

We sat down and started coloring. A little boy, also with a band-aid on his chin, came over and colored with us.  I moved an empty wheelchair with a mysterious puddle underneath it out of the way so the boy’s mother could also sit with us.  After a few minutes of coloring, I had enough courage to ask her the dreaded question. “So, how long have you been waiting?”

“Just over two hours,” was her response.

“Oh.” was all I could muster. I suddenly felt really, really tired.

About an hour into our wait, the little boy was finally called back to be treated.  You and I continued to watch really bad tv, go on a little walk, cuddle, play rock-paper-scissors, look at pictures on my phone, people watch, stare at the walls.  It was when you started making faces at a Bosnian looking man and loudly announce “There sure are a lot of Chinese people here” that I contemplated taking you home and starting over again tomorrow.  But… your chin was oozing blood through the band-aid and we had to go ask for a new one.  You again thought you were going to die, and I knew we better just stay.  I had to buck-up and get through this with you.

So we bucked up, and as we passed our two-hour mark, and the “Chinese” man was called back, you were also called back. The nurse removed your second band-aid of the night and just said “Oh. Um, the doctor will be right in.”

She noticed my raised eye-brow and clarified. “I don’t know if we can glue this.”  From past experiences with you, I knew that stitches meant waiting at least another hour for the numbing medicine to kick in. I just smiled and said. “Okay” but inside all I could think of was “Oh holy gawd. I’m not going to get to bed until at least 4am.”

The doctor quickly came in, looked at you laying there, and said “Yep, stitches. I can’t glue this.”  He shared that he was able to glue the little boy’s chin, but yours was a doozy.

So, for the next hour, you laid there, we watched tv, we talked, I took pictures of your chin to show you what it looked like, I called your dad and woke him up so he knew what was going on, we went through about 5 tissues to remove the oozing combination of blood and numbing gel seeping from your chin. Again, more awesomeness.

In all of the waiting and oozing blood, you got hungry. Really, really hungry.  It was now about 2:50am and you wanted a Whopper from Burger King. You also started talking about a party that was happening at daycare the following morning.  You were adamant that you didn’t want to miss it – oh and you wanted a Whopper.

Just after 3am, the nurse and doctor reemerged and put cloths all over your face.  You laid there bravely and timidly answered their questions.  To make you feel less nervous, I told the doctor that you were craving a Whopper.

Both the Dr and nurse thought that was pretty funny.  They told you that Burger King wasn’t open this late at night, but McDonalds sure was.  You quickly changed your mind and decided that McDonalds would be a perfect stop after all this nonsense was over.

The doctor gave you three stitches in your little chin.  The nurse said that she’d be right back with our discharge papers.

You got off the bed and started walking around the room.  You started to play with the room divider curtain.  As you were playing with it, you honest to God, hit your head on the bed rail. You started to cry. I was exasperated and told you to sit in one place until we could leave.

Where were those discharge papers??

After about 10 minutes of waiting, I opened our exam room door.  It was like the place had cleared out. Where the hell was everybody?

A couple minutes later, I approached a nurse. Turns out the doctor had put the discharge papers in the wrong box and had I not spoken up, we might still be there. I shuddered at the thought.

It was now after 3:30am, but we couldn’t leave yet! No! Not yet! We had to go stand in the discharge line and make sure the hospital had all of our insurance information!  Thank goodness this line went quickly and we were on our way. I would hate to have the hospital not be able to bill us for this.

So, to try and wrap this saga up – we went to McDonalds at  3:40am.  You wanted to go inside and play. Honest.  I ordered you “A chocolate shake and chicken nuggets.”  “Sorry, our ice cream machine is cleaning right now.”  I said “Fine. Chocolate milk and chicken nuggets.”  We pulled up to the window and I felt compelled to let the worker know why I had a 6 year-old out eating chicken nuggets at 4am.  He just smiled like he didn’t really care and we went on our way.

We got home, dad was sound asleep, but Brandon woke up. You ate the nuggets and I got Brandon some juice.  He thought it was morning time and wanted to get up and play.

By 4:15am, Brandon was settled again, and you and I were positioning ourselves on opposite ends of the couch – with a coffee table next to you so you wouldn’t fall off of the couch. You very innocently asked me "Are you going to read me a bedtime story?" I, not so innocently replied, "No. It's the middle of the night. I've already tucked you in once."

At 6am, Brandon was standing in front of both of us announcing “THE SUN IS AWAKE! WAKE UP MOM! GET UP!”

I brought Brandon into my bedroom and made your dad get up with him.  I fell back asleep until 7:05am at which point I woke up to hear Brandon crashing his firetruck into his bedroom walls.  Your dad was in the shower and no longer supervising. I got Brandon ready and called daycare to find out when  your party was.  The party was at 10am! Crap! That didn’t give you a lot of time to sleep!

I played/cuddled/tried not to pass out with Brandon until about 7:30am when your dad took him to daycare.  I went back to bed.  I woke up at 9am, and wished I didn’t feel obligated to go to work and get you to this party at daycare.  I started to get myself ready.  I jostled you at 9:20am and said “if you want to go to the party, you have to get up now. Keep sleeping though if you are tired.”

I’ve never, ever seen you get up so quickly in your entire life.

I got you to daycare around 9:50am and you showed off your bandages and your hospital bracelet.  I let everybody know that whenever you wanted to come home, that you were allowed to call me.  You were so happy to see your friends, that I had grand plans of you making it alllllllllll day long.

I got a call at 11:30am that your chin hurt and you wanted to come home.  I went to get you, and you quickly asked if you could have Asha come over and play this afternoon.

Yep, you were a total faker, but that was okay.

We went and did a little shopping and dad came home to be with you at 2pm…. And I continued to drink Monster energy drinks to try and stay awake until bedtime.

The End.

So, BrynnieBear, I need you to know that I share this story of my day, our day, not to complain. I would live this day over and over again so long as it had the same result –meaning all it took was 3 stitches to get you better again.  I just feel sick whenever I think of anything happening to you, your brother, or any other little kid.  You and Brandon are my absolute world and I would do anything for you.  You make me so happy and so proud to be your mom (except when you can’t figure out how to cover yourself up in bed.)

I love you more than anything, and I sure hope you and your dad have fun when HE takes you back to the ER to have the stitches removed in 5 days!