Our day started like this:
And ended like this (notice the bandaged fingers and teary eyes for both of us). Yep, we have definitely looked better.
- 5:00 P.M. the night before: Review hospital instructions for the test Little T needs for his hypertonia.
- 9:30 P.M. the night before: give Little T oatmeal because he can’t eat after 10:00 P.M.
- 2:30 A.M: wake up and give Little T one last bottle of water, because he can’t drink anything after 3:00 A.M.
- 4:30 A.M: Alarm goes off.
- 4:45 A.M: Alarm goes off again.
- 5:00 A.M: Alarm goes off again
- 5:15 A.M: Big T and I wake up in a panic because we were late, and carried our tuckered out Little T to the car and head to the hospital. In our pajamas.
- 7:00: Little T gets his anesthesia. Momma J gets a little teary as she holds his hand and watches him fall asleep.
- 8:30: Little T is fine. We wait by him with relief as he wakes up from the anesthesia.
- 9:15: We head home to take care of Little T. The worst is over…or so we thought. dun dun dun
- 12:00: (fast forward to a groggy Little T waking up at home) Momma J decides to clean the house and grabs the vacuum.
- 12:05: Momma J is cleaning under the couch with the vacuum hose and her back turned to Little T, and feels the vacuum fall over behind her.
- 12:05 1/2: Momma J turns around to see Little T screaming, and realizes the reason the vacuum fell was because a curious Little T had pushed it over and ripped the skin off the entire side of two fingers from (we’re guessing), the rotating brushes under the vacuum.
- 12:06: Momma J and Big T rush back to the doctor.
- 1:00: The doctor says that too much of his skin has come off, and that we need to have it treated at the burn clinic. We learn that we need to visit the burn clinic every day until it heals.
- 1:15: The only burn clinic we can get to is an hour from our house. Little T hates long car rides, poor baby.
- 1:16: Momma J cries in front of the doctor and feels guilty. Big T convinces her that she does not have to go and buy Little T a big tub of soy ice cream or a puppy dog or something.
- 1:45: We go and get a frozen tofurky vegan pizza for dinner from Mother’s Market, because it’s one of those days.
- 2:30: We realize that Little T has taken off his bandage and we head back to the doctor.
- 8:00-3:00 A.M: Little T cries and can only be comforted when he is being rocked by mommy. What a night, poor little guy. We’re all exhausted.
- 3:00 A.Mish: Momma J calls the nurse hotline and they tell her there’s nothing else we can do to make him comfortable. Ugh.
- 4:00 AM: Litte T finally goes to sleep.
I feel awful. Even though the nurses, the doctors, my grandma, and the guy who handed me my beet juice at Mother’s Market, said stuff like this happens all the time and that it’s all a part of parenthood.
I also felt bad because I pride myself in being calm during emergency situations. Things came up when I worked at Disneyland all the time, and I was great at calmly giving instructions and helping the emergency crew. This is not the way things went down when Little T hurt himself. Imagine me turning to comfort him, thinking he was scared because of the vacuum, then screaming when I see his finger and rushing around the house, hyperventilating while I search for emergency supplies, calling the doctor, while repeating, “oh my god, oh my god, oh my god”. Totally different when it’s your own child.