What'd you do today?

We spent 5 hours in the ER today. And I doubt whether Olivia will ever willingly wash dishes again.

It was almost naptime, and Livvie asked to help me wash dishes. I said that'd be fine (duh!), and I finished up the rest of the silverware and glasses... I thought. Just moments later, as I wiped Ellia's face clean from lunch, I heard Olivia hollering. Figuring she'd gotten a toe stuck on the chair, I meandered into the kitchen. She was holding her hand up, blood gushing everywhere--mostly onto herself. I plunged my hand into the suds and pulled out a broken drinking glass. I have to admit I kinda freaked. I think I kept saying, "O boy, o boy, o boy!" Behold the bloody towels, chair, and sink:

After a brief glance at the wound--what's that you hear? oh, just my churning stomach--and a quick call to Nate, I strapped Ellia in and held Livvie on my lap for the 5 minute drive to the hospital. Poor baby. 5 hours and a handful of stitches later, we emerged.

I don't think I would've ever come out, were it not for my heaven-sent angel of mercy, Melissa. By the time it was determined that stitches were definitely in order, we'd already been there an hour. Ellia Joy was no joy at all. Not that I could blame her. So many sights and sounds and people... who wouldn't want to meander the halls and push every button within reach? Melissa was there within 30 minutes, and I can't thank her enough. I needed every muscle, every little bit of energy & focus for holding Livvie down, caressing her forehead, reassuring her, and holding her between procedures.

There were the anesthetic pokes, and lots of them, which made her already pudgy finger swell and blanch til I thought it would pop. That was followed soon after by the suturing process itself. Wow, I was not mentally prepared for that one. Horrific, especially when they strapped and swaddled my baby until she couldn't move at all. I couldn't even hold her hand. "Yep, there's a tendon," the doc pointed out. Then there were X-rays, to rule out any remaining glass, and naturally I foolishly promised Olivia I would sit right there with her. Yep, right up until the technician came at me with a giant vest and said, "Any chance you're pregnant?" I said, "Mmm hmm, 23 weeks along! I'll just sit a few inches away." She smirked. I had to be content to holler at her through a window in the next room. Then it was back to the room, where another nurse cleaned the wound and dressed it. Then it was 40 minutes of waiting for our discharge instructions and paperwork. She was falling asleep by this time, having had no nap and such a traumatic experience.

Of course, all of that stuff took up a grand total of about an hour. Maybe a tad more. But you know how that ER waiting game goes. I think I read this book to her 10 times. She loved it, and was even reciting parts of it when I put her to bed tonight.

Funny, the promises you make to a child in distress. A Happy Meal was among them. Note bloody shirt and bandaged hand. She calls it "my silly mitten." It has to stay on until Saturday, then we just have to put a few band-aids on it. Easier said than done in this house...

When Nate got home, I had to make a quick run to the store. Would you believe we've never had children's Tylenol in our house? Had to pick up some for her throbbing pain, which is sure to arrive in just a few hours. I also picked up some antibiotic ointment. Livvie's terrified of band-aids. Hates them. We're talking weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. I thought Dora band-aids might help. She wants to stick them on paper to send to Grammy. And I got some fun, foaming kids' hand soap, and fruit snacks. What a treat for her!
There are far, far worse things that warrant an ER visit, I realize. I overheard the nurses telling one upset mother, "I know you've been waiting, and I do apologize. But we've just had 2 patients come in who are quite critical..." I'm so glad it was just a cut.

But I do think it's high time we get a dishwasher.