Torrential Downpours...

Okay, so the "torrential downpours"...

First, please understand that I know there are people with real problems SO much bigger than mine. So, while this post may seem long, rambling and pitiful please know two things: (1) a few days removed from the situation my perspective is much better, and (2) hello, it's a blog - no one is forcing you to read it!! Ha ha ha.

So, last weekend we were out doing some shopping and as we were out and about, it was rainy and icky and my car started making a funny noise. NOT funny-ha-ha, but funny-I'm-feeling-sick-at-my-stomach-wondering-what-that-will-cost. Ha ha. Did I mention my vehicle is the only one that will hold both car seats? So...

Dave ran home after his lunch on Monday and took my car in to have it looked at. Yippee, I got brand new front brakes. Happy Anniversary, Merry Christmas, yippee. But safety is a good thing and I'm thankful it was "only" the front brakes.

He couldn't take it that morning because Luke had his 9 month "well check" doctor's appointment. Lukey is 95th percentile for height and 75th percentile for weight. And he had an ear infection. I felt rather silly as I had no clue. He hadn't really changed his eating or sleeping habits and hadn't been overly grouchy. But, of course, that afternoon, after the doctor told him he was sick, Luke decided to act sick - crying, tugging, whining. Do you think he heard the doctor and decided to milk it? Funny part of this story, this was his first experience with antibiotics and I think they make him sleepy.

So, Tuesday night is when it got really "fun." I was cooking dinner and doing laundry. Dave was sitting on the couch and the boys were playing right around where he was sitting. Luke was pulled up and holding onto the coffee table. Here's where there's a bit of confusion. Not too sure how he ended up in the floor - whether he reached too far and lost his balance, Seth pushed something into him, or Seth forgot that Luke cannot stand up if you move his hands off of whatever he's holding onto and then let go of his hands. Anyway, I heard a little thud, hesitation, Luke's scream, and Dave, somewhat excitedly, asking Seth if he had anything to do with the fall. Once the blood coming from Luke's lip was discovered the how and why became secondary to the 'how bad is it?' Dave seemed to be on the side of, it'll all be okay. I was more on the side of, everytime he moves his mouth (you know to breathe, smile, eat) it's coming apart again. So, I did something that I NEVER do. I called the emergency line for our pediatrician's office and had someone call me back. In the meantime I called in the real professionals - Grammy and Grampy who arrived on our doorstep momentarily. The doctor called back and explained that if it crosses the border of the lip (where my lip liner would go - yes, this was her description for me!) then it should be professionally put back together or his smile would be forever crooked.

After weighing the options we decided that if he was 14 and said, "I don't care about my smile" that would be one thing. But instead, I was imagining him at 14 wanting to know why he smiled funny and me having to tell him I really didn't feel like taking him to the ER one night when he fell. So, Grammy and I loaded up in the car and headed for the ER. It was nearly Seth's bedtime by now and Dave's not the biggest fan of hospitals so he stayed behind. I insisted I was fine to go alone, but in the end I was really glad Grammy came with us.

I know, it doesn't look all that exciting.

We got to the ER, no Prompt Care for stitches apparently, and they called us back to take his weight, temp, etc. Luke is a real 'face grabber.' He loves to pull my hair, grab my nose, etc. So, as I'm trying to lay him on the scale, he knocks my contact out of my eye. I could feel it wasn't in there. I am searching franticially. I have REALLY bad eyesight so it's hard to find a missing contact with only one in. Plus, they aren't disposable so there's no more at home. They are hard and expensive to replace, never mind the weeks I must live in my glasses as they have to be special ordered (embarrassing, can't believe I'm sharing this!). Anyway, the nurse finally figures out what I'm saying and sees the contact on the floor. YEAH!! I bend over to pick it up and realize that he has no concept of how wiggly a 9 month old on a scale suspended in mid-air can be and place my hand on Luke just as he tries to squirm off the scale. Yikes! Eventually, I got the contact in and they finished the prelim tests and sent us back out to wait.

Finally we get into a room, the doctor comes in, takes a look, says 'yeah, needs a few stitches.' We joke and laugh about boys (the doctor said he has 4 and that he's always sewing one of them up), etc. You know me, I'm trying to keep it light. Then he says, oh, and I'd like to put him out to do it. I think I laughed - ha ha, what a jokester. Except he looked very serious at that point.

So, to sum this up before you all fall asleep, my sweet little baby go to be sedated. Not one shot, but two as either he was resistant or the staff did a poor job of converting his weight from pounds to kilograms. It's the latter if I was hearing all of their conversations correctly. But he has two nice little bruises on his leg from those shots. It was quite a party during the stitching - a nurse and someone shadowing her, the doctor, a physician's assistant, someone with a little tiny scary respiratory aparatus "just in case" and mommy and Grammy. The worst part for me and mom, after the scariness of sedating this little person who has never been sedated before, was trying to keep him in the bed. The doctor had said we shouldn't touch him, talk to him, turn the TV on, etc. until he was fully awake as it would agitate him in his "altered state." However, he was flopping all over the bed and was small enough to fit all the way through the rails on the side and kept getting all wrapped up in all the monitor cords so I had no option but to hold onto him and keep him in the bed and keep untangling him. At one point, the nurse convinced me he was awake enough for me to pick him up. I did and his neck flopped like a newborn. Ick. So, we put his confused little self back down. Finally, he woke up enough to support his own head and get up on all fours. That's when I had had enough and just held him tight. It was about midnight and it was hard to tell if he was just exhausted and hungry or really still a little 'out of it.' When they released us, Grammy asked if he should be watched at home this particular night. The nurse said, 'well, it's up to you but I certainly would.' Then shouldn't you just tell me that??? Then my favorite was when she said we could go and I asked about the little patches where they had been monitoring his heart. "You can take those off." How about YOU, the medical professional, take those off? He's mad enough at his mommy!

Well, as they say, all is well that ends well. He tolerated the stitches like a real trooper. Never once did the stitches affect his eating. I never even saw him touch them. He always has his tongue hanging out anyway but he mostly touches the top lip and the stitches were in the bottom lip. He got the stitches out today [Sunday] and the doctor was wonderful. Luke was extremely calm and didn't even cry once. It was quick and easy and he is napping away in his bed. And I even closed the door all the way and haven't been in to peek at his little sleeping self once.