Well, well. I see that my darling ten year old son has once again decided that he needed to take after the ol' mom just a teeeeeeny bit more.
Nehemiah and I were out doing yard work yesterday (well, he was trying to finish paying off that new Harry Potter book he got a week ago), and I had bought a small hand aerator where you slam it into the ground and two little plugs pop out. I was attempting to work this little contraption and was getting quite the work out from it. After telling Nehemiah, "No, you can't do this, it's hard to use" for the third time he insists that he can do it. So he comes over and I show him how to use it. He makes light work of it and actually enjoys it! OK fine, I'll let him do it since it gets me out of something that halfway resembles exercise.
So he is happily pounding away on the grass and I'm watering away trying to keep it wet enough for him. We see Dad come home from work so we go inside for a drink of water. After five minutes of some chit chat he excitedly gets back up and tells me he is going back out. I told him that was fine, I would be out in a minute. Literally 30 seconds later the front door flies open and Nehemiah comes in holding his hand screaming. I look and see blood dripping (don't worry people, I won't describe it in detail-I know some of you have weak tummies). I sit him down in the chair and grab a clean kitchen towel to wrap his hand in. Nehemiah through his hysterics explains that while slamming the aerator into the ground he caught his hand on a wooden post. We have a "Vote for this guy" sign in our yard and he had wanted to get as close to the sign as possible. Obviously he got pretty close.
So after a few minutes of Wayne and I talking to him getting him to calm down I lift up the towel and can clearly see a lot of damage. Without looking any further I quietly explain to Nehemiah that he is going to go to the hospital and I need him to sit and be calm. Wayne and I seemed to work like a well oiled machine, well a well oiled machine with a couple of screws loose. Nehemiah was feeling faint (and looking it) so Wayne went and got the air conditioning going in the car while I called a neighbor to see if she could keep an eye on Carinda so both Wayne and I could go. I was worried about just one of us going at this point because we were having a hard time keeping Nehemiah calm. No such luck with our neighbor, they were leaving so Wayne got to stay behind with the princess of the family (and seeing as though like most men he doesn't really like hospitals I don't think he minded, LOL).
We get our little ashen colored boy into the car and away we go. Gas. Dang it-I forgot the car needed gas. We own three cars, can I take the one with gas? NO! A quick stop through the local Chevron and we were on our way. By the time we get to the freeway the ice pack on Nehemiah's hand was starting to do it's job and the bleeding had slowed and the pain had started to subside, hence our brave little (oh, sorry BIG) boy was calming down. He was lamenting on the way there that we should have a hospital in Woodland because we would already be there. I agreed and prayed we wouldn't have much traffic to contend with.
On the way there I grabbed my cell phone (yes, I used my headset people-it's now a law in Washington) and called up Kaiser to find out the best place to take him. The receptionist for the nurse assured me of where to go and that the urgent care would be able to take care of him. As Nehemiah's nerves calm, Mommy nerves seem to kick in. I made a couple of quick calls to my parents letting them know the damage done. It reminded me of all the times I had been taken in for a fall or cut of some kind. Nehemiah remained calm but was sleepy and asked if he could close his eyes. I assured him that yes he could nap.
Before to long we pull into the urgent care and present ourselves to the receptionist. Now normally things like lacerations are taken first...well what do you do when there are SEVERAL lacerations to be seen? There were so many, and of course they were all complicated ones. There was a little girl of about 4 or so who had whacked the back of her head and received four or five staples, ironically right about where Nehemiah had just March of last year. I was talking to her and reminded Nehemiah of that and he chuckled. I was amazed that with all the people there we only sat about 50 minutes before being called back.
Now up until being called back Nehemiah was good and calm. He knew that there would be stitches involved and was OK. Once we got back to the exam room the nurse removed my kitchen towel and ice pack (I kept the ice pack but decided not to save the towel) and Nehemiah took one look at his gash and almost like a cartoon you could see the color drain from his face. We laid him down and while the nurse got the doctor I did my best to keep the boy calm. One look from the doc and oh yes, you need stitches. (DUH) So the nurse put on a topical medicine to help numb it before he gets the lidocaine shots (hey, I don't ever remember that when I got stitches)!! The doc comes back and proceeds to numb our little guy up and we are having a big problem keeping him calm. He wanted to know why we couldn't just knock him out! We kept him deep breathing and calm enough so the nurse could come back and wash out his cut.
Once the cut was cleaned (and someone DID NOT like the cold/wet/numb sensation) and the doc was ready we brought in everything to stitch him back together. Nehemiah shrieked when he saw the tray of all the little instruments. He wanted to know what the scissors were for and I told him to cut the thread. I didn't dare tell him anything else-and the doc just agreed with me. Nehemiah kept trying to look up and I kept holding his head down trying to keep him looking at me, not his hand. The doc and nurse that fixed him up were so wonderful. They were calm, very nice and overall just took great care with him as though he was the only patient that night. Now because the gash came from striking a hard object we were concerned about a possible fracture to his thumb or hand so once we got the stitches in we would need to get an xray.
Before we go to the xray department we stand him up to wash his hands and once again Nehemiah looks at his hand, now all stitched up and once again he almost passes out on us. The nurse and I steady him and get a wheelchair. Once his hands were clean, his hand was wrapped in some gauze and that was good because he could no longer look at it. We take him to xray and once done we wheel him back to the exam area. Color has returned again and we sit waiting for the doctor to come back in who at that point had begun stitching up another laceration. He came in to say he had good news, he didn't see any fracture. But because of the severe swelling and the location of the cut he did want a splint on his hand. We get the splint on and make another appointment to see his own doctor on Monday for a follow up and for further instructions hoping that this won't remove us completely from football practice. (The doc had said he can do conditioning just nothing that involves the hand).
Once we were out of there we headed down to our favorite frozen custard shop. I had promised Nehemiah a cone and once we got there we decided a shake would be easier to handle. So one cookie dough shake later (well and of course mom wanted one too) we were on the road for home.
He slept well and so far this morning doesn't have any major pain or throbbing with it. After breakfast I'll change the dressing and I'm sure he will do his best to try and gross sister out. So I guess he is relieved of his yard work duties, I think I'll try and recruit the other two kids for that...I'll just make them wear padded suits.
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