Because here's how mine shaped up, in mind-numbing detail:
2am-Woken from what had been a wonderful night's sleep by Satan himself apparently trying to claw his way out of my stomach/gastrointestinal track. Frantically think back to everything I have eaten in the last 24-48 hours that may have caused this. Mentally reflect that since I have never maimed small children or tortured a puppy, there's no way I can deserve the gastrointestinal torment that I endured over several hours in the wee hours of Tuesday morning.
5am-Gastrointestinal torment continues. Call in sick to work, fairly certain that I will not be awake and ready to take care of sick/dying people without wanting to throw up on them just a few hours from now. Hate calling in sick because if I don't work, I don't get paid. Take every stomach medicine in my arsenal and go back to bed for the next five hours.
8am- Briefly awake, tell Brandon to please, please, please don't send the babysitter home, and if he'll leave me water and gatorade on my nightstand I won't have to leave my bed all day.
10:30am-Woken by the ringing of my cell phone, the phone number is unfamiliar. I don't pick up. They call again. It's the school nurse from Dane's school, Dane has broken his arm and the ambulance is coming to take him to the hospital. Try not to throw up on the phone.
10:31am- JUMP out of bed, wide awake, convince the school nurse to keep the ambulance at the school long enough for me to take a speed-shower and brush my teeth.
10:50am-Arrive at school the same time Brandon does. See an ambulance and firetruck in the parking lot. The school nurse, principal, and several other women are surrounding the ambulance. Dane is lying on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, his right arm bending at an unnatural angle. He's trying not to cry, and pretty scared. Climb in the back of the ambulance with Dane, and try to convince the paramedics to go to the not-busy, fully-capable-of-handling-this-type-of-emergency stand-alone ER that I work at quite a bit, instead of the busy trauma center ER where I called in sick today, knowing that they would be short-handed, extremely busy, and have a waiting room full of patients. Request denied.
Apparently while I was sleeping off the effects of my stomach demon, Dane was running a mile in PE in a mere 8 minutes 50 seconds. The first one done, Dane was playing with a hula hoop while everyone else finished running. The hula hoop was rolling away from him, and as he reached out with his right hand to grab it, he fell onto his outstretched right hand, snapping the bones in his forearm. A freak accident, for sure. I would have guessed the first broken bone for our kids would have involved wrestling in the living room, playing football, or some sort of playground accident. Nope. The hula hoop proved to be Dane's nemesis.
10:50-11:30am- ride in bumpy ambulance for 40 minutes, taking the longest route I can think of to get to the ER. Try not to throw up on the paramedic or my son, who has received narcotic pain medicine at this point and is counting the trees he sees out the back window of the ambulance.
11:30am-1pm- hang out in very busy trauma center ER, where I have called in sick to work just a few hours before. Try not to throw up the Gatorade I have been sipping all day. Dane sees a very nice ER doctor that I work with all the time, and Dane watches Tom and Jerry to keep his mind off of his arm. As long as we're not touching or moving Dane's arm, he's pretty comfortable. Chastised by husband for not thinking to bring the camera to the ER as I was running out the door. And yes, we are the only people on the planet who can't take pictures with our cell phones and instantly get them online.
1pmish- Mean radiology techs come to room to take 8000 xrays of my son's deformed arm while he screams and cries in agony and I hold Brandon outside of room so he doesn't maim the radiology techs and get me fired. Get a good look at Dane's arm while mean radiology techs remove the splint and move it all around to get the pictures they need:
This isn't Dane's arm, but it's what his arm looked like yesterday.
1pm-3pm- IV morphine, watching the NFL Combine on TV, playing Zelda on the hospital's video game system. As long as Dane's not thinking about his arm, his pain is pretty much under control.
3pm- Take a peek at Dane's xrays:
(This is not his actual xray, but this is what his xray looked like.)
Nice ER doctor explains to us that he thought Dane may have to have surgery, but the orthopedic I had requested is going to come see him in the ER in about an hour and try to sedate him and set the arm.
4pm- Hyperactive orthopedic here. Thank him for coming to see Dane on (what was supposed to be) his evening off. (This mommy may have pulled the "I'm a nurse in the ER please come see my boy" card to get the orthopedic of my choice to come in when he wasn't on call.) Try not to throw up on his shoes.
4:30pm-Dane is sedated, hyper-ortho uses Chinese-finger splint contraption to help reduce sedated-Dane's arm:
5-6pm- More xrays, arm is not as straight as hyper-ortho wants it, so Dane is re-sedated and the arm is re-straighted. Major trauma patient (half-dead guy, major internal injuries, blood everywhere, on life-support) rolls into ER. Most of the nurses are tied up with him, so I get to help hyper-ortho reset Dane's arm. I'm pretty sure it was the first time he's ever had a mom help plaster-wrap her own son's arm. Brandon leaves to go get Aidan from school, I call my sitter and profess my undying love to her for staying late and helping with Emerson and Harper. A "Gatorade-only/no caffeine all day" headache sets in, Dane sleeps a Ketamine-induced nap.
6:30-7pm: Brandon at the hospital with Aidan in tow, Dane wakes up enough to eat, and subsequently vomit up, a popsicle. Consider it a major success that I have gone the whole day without throwing up. Send Brandon home to relieve our wonderful babysitter.
8pm-Finally discharged from hospital, after Dane gets IV nausea meds and proves he can drink juice without hurling. Brandon and children arrive just as we are checking out. Pile into van, pick up Dane's pain medicine on the way home. Briefly remember that Aidan has not eaten dinner.
9pm- Medicate Dane, put all children to bed. Reflect on the fact that Dane made it seven years without breaking a bone, knowing that with all four kids, we may as well go ahead and put hyperactive-orthopedic on speed dial.
So how was your Tuesday?
4 comments:
Oh, my - what a day, Mandy! I hope that your stomach is feeling better today! Poor Dane - I hope it heals correctly and quickly.
Oh dear! I think that can go down in your books as the WORST. TUESDAY. EVER. Every other day will pale in comparison! Prays for healing for everyone!
Oh no! Broken bones are terrible! I am so sorry!
Holy cow. What a crazy day you all had! So sorry for poor Dane-O. :( Love you all!
Post a Comment