I had an exciting weekend. Exciting may not be the best word choice now that I think about it. Exciting makes you think it was fun….awesome…exciting! It was opposite of that.
Sunday morning I got the kids ready and we headed off to church. Cookie was unusually happy, babbling through most of the service. Smartie was happy too, quite unusual, and went to Children’s Worship. T.Clutch announced that the office would be closed for MLK Day, so I would get the day off. Woohoo! Even I was happy!
After church we went home, and I laid down with Cookie for a nap. When we woke up, she sounded like a 30-year smoker with emphysema. I waited most of the afternoon around the house, to see if she’d get better. By 4:30 I’d made up my mind to go to the E.R. with her. Fun!
Long story short, they said she had bronchitis, and kept asking if she had asthma; NO. They sent us home, FINALLY, with an inhaler. All was well, or at least good for the moment. Somehow, in the back of my mind, I just knew I should’ve gone to work Monday. But I didn’t. I stayed home with the kids, looking forward to a long lazy day. Cookie had other plans, of course. She decided to pull a small table over on her face. I expected to see a purple punk-knot on her head, but when I picked her up, blood was everywhere. I’m NOT exaggerating…it really was everywhere. I ran her to the kitchen, screaming along the way; grabbed some paper towels and held them over her face. Then I debated who to call….Peabody? Mom? 911?
I called the doctor’s office when I realized she’d busted her nose. (imagine me, shrieking, yelling, hyperventilating….)
“Are you open today?!?!?! Is this the answering service?”
“Yes ma’am. We’re open.”“I need a doctor on the phone. NOW!!!!! I think my baby broke her nose!!!!”
“Calm down ma’am. Let me take your information and I’ll get a phone nurse to call you back.”
“She might bleed to death by then. I don’t want a call back. Give me a nurse NOW!!!!!”
After talking to the nurse, I felt a little better. Cookie’s nose finally stopped bleeding, but every time she sneezed it would splatter. Imagine that.
Smartie looks in the trash can 30 minutes later, completely oblivious to what happened.“What’s all this blood in the trash can?”“It’s where Cookie busted her nose.”(Sound exasperated…..) “Oh gosh. I guess we’ll have to take her to the hospital again before you kill somebody.”Sounds about right!