Friday, June 17, 2011

Rmembering to breathe

Last night was a big deal, because, well, my daddy turned 59. We cooked a yummy spaghetti dinner and headed out to his house to gobble it down. Hubby even baked the brownie cake. (Yummers!)


The kids had a lot of fun playing outside in the grass and chasing the dogs. Niecey hadn't been out there since he was still building it! She was really suprised.

Well, now you're probably wondering what the title has to do with anything that I've just said. It doesn't really. It has to do with the morning we have just ended here at mi casa.
Hubby went to the hospital at 6:30 this morning. I waved through the rainy window as he drove off - oh, wait, it wasn't raining. I was crying again. sigh.

Anyway, I waved him my best "goodbye and good luck and I'll see you soon" wave and started to get the girls' lunches fixed and camp clothes set out and changed a pull-up and emptied and filled the dishwasher, and made breakfast, and watered the garden, and chased the trash truck with a little boy, and did hair in two different requested styles and tied bandanas around them, and dressed a couple bodies, and shoved two more bodies (alive, mind you!) into a friend's carpool car and sat down with two little boys for some engaging conversation.
The conversation was pretty dull, as I was left out. I'm not in the "know" of what I'm supposed to do or say, or make the cars say or do, when the mean one runs into you, and so, I was outcasted to do laundry.
As I began sorting laundry and jumping every time my phone rang (is it the hospital?!? Can i come get him?!? Oh....oh hi there. No, I'm okay, but I gotta go. I'm waiting on a phone call from the hospital...).
As I walked back and forth between the rooms and the laundry room, I watched as the little guys decided to take turns jumping off a box, about the size of a shoe box, onto the floor. Fun. Good thing i was outcast. I woulda flattened that box into oblivion.
As I finish putting a load into the dryer, I hear it. That scream. Not the normal cry, the one that says things like "A crocodile just bit my leg off!" or "The lawnmower just got my hand, mom!". I rushed out to the living room (woops! go back, pick up your heart, and put it back in your chest, woman!!). There he was.
My little Evan.
All curled up on the floor in fetal position, tears rolling down his face, and a dumped over box.
He wasn't moving his arm, and he wasn't liking me even thinking of moving it for him.
I took a quick assessment.
Hmm. Mmmm hmmmm. Yep, he's alive.
I can't hear myself think at this point. Baby E is crying so loudly in pain, it's beginning to hurt my ears, but I still hear the OSU Cowboys fight song from somewhere in the distance.
Oh great.
NOW the hospital calls.
Hello? Yes, this is his wife. 20 minutes? Okay, well, I may be picking him up from the ER then. Mmm Hmmm. Okay. Okay. Thanks, bye.
Yeah, not even sure she could hear a thing I said.
Now at this point, I'm thinkin I need to get the kids in the car and get to the ER.
I call a friend over who offers to stay with Ethan while I run Ev in. As luck would have it. hubby was ready for delivery and his nurse tells me that Ev's doctor has an x-ray machin in their office - it might save some money to make an appt. Okay. I call over, and we can check in 15 minutes later. Sorry, hubby, you're drugged, recently sewn together, and loopy, but you're coming with me to the germ factory to see about an arm.
Dr. S says an x-ray is definately needed, but wants the radiologist to look at it.
back to the hospital we go.
check in, update chart, waiting room...

Hubby is ready to go home. He wants to drive.
Ummm....NO. The doctor has strict orders THAT I SIGNED that say you cannot drive today!! You're under the influence of surgery meds!!



He cares not, and rushes out the door calling back that he's fine! he'll take the back roads! as the radiology nurse calls me back.
Figures. I can't fight back.

The radiologist twists his arm this way and that to take pictures - oh yes, this was going REAL freakin well. (Sorry you broke your arm, kid, here, lemmie twist it this a-way and that for a picture! I can frame it for $20 more, or a keychain, perhaps?...)

Back to the doctor's office.
Dr S has the xrays on her computer in her office. We're looking together as she describes that "this might be a fracture here...maybe here...", but we have to wait on the radiologist to call - she's no radiologist.

We wait until the call comes, and I'm (this is so sad) enjoying the way my baby is snuggling against my chest, like when he was a teeny tiny one and he loved to snuggle - and oh! the best snuggler there ever was!

Just as he is falling asleep in my arms (whew! This kid is heav-yyyy!), Dr. S comes in saying that the radiologist says it's fine - justa  bad sprain.

Okay.

Motrin and ice, a sling if he'll wear one (He won't).

Back in the car, rush to Sonic to gather grub for the hubby (NO FOOD past midnight!) and for the little limpy-armed, tear stained, baby boy in back.
Home again, home again, jiggety gig.

Eat.
Feed.
Comfort.

oh yeah....

BREATHE.


Hubby's surgery went well, by the way. He's now equipped with a "power port", and doesn't that sound like something that every "cap't awesome" should have!


I love you, Cap't Awesome, and your little sidekick, too, who must follow you to the ends of the world (or the hospital) just because he got a double dose of Focker Castro.

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2 comments:

  1. Well, I am worn out just from reading about your day! I think I need a drink, and then a nap. ;)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Heidi, I love reading about your family! Can you please tell all the swim team moms to blog about their children too? I just got my state championship t-shirt in the mail yesterday and it made me realize how much I miss everyone!

    ReplyDelete

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