Last Monday Beth was feeling a smidge under the weather so I let her stay home from school. We spent the day together reading, cooking, sewing on her embroidery kit, and learning to knit. Before we knew it, it was time to pick-up her sisters from school, and as we drove home an argument broke out among the girls. Using story telling as an argument dispelling tactic I told them all about the time their 4 year old Uncle Tim put a fine-tipped crochet hook in his waist band to use as a Peter-Pan sword and jumped off the bed. I described how I found him laying on the floor crying with the needle poking into his leg, and how after we got it out he told me a funny story. That's what my English Lit textbook would call foreshadowing . . .
Only an hour later Beth jumped down from the counter, yelped, and whimpered, "Something is stuck in my foot." Absolutely not worried, I took a look and saw a needle poking out of Beth's sock. (Funny, I was just talking about this kind of thing) Figuring it was just stuck in the flesh of her big toe I gave it tug but it didn't budge. I gave it a yank and it still didn't budge. Perplexed, I eased off her sock, took a good look at her foot, and discovered the needle 1) had entered her big toe blunt/eye end first and 2) was all the way through her toe and bulging up on the other side. (Oooo, this is not your average splinter). My mind immediately reverted to my first aid text book:
Puncture Wound
- do not try to remove object. Doing so may create further internal damage and start excessive bleeding. (Oh, right. Oops. Well, it's her toe, not her eyeball, and I didn't get it out anyway so let's move on.)
- to prevent shock prop victim's feet up slightly and cover victim with a blanket (Madeleine dispatched to fetch necessary pillows and blankets. Shock prevention - check.)
- Stabilize impaled object with rolled gauze and wrap with gauze bandages to secure in place and prevent movement during transport. (Hmmmm. I don't happen to have any rolled gauze or bandages readily on hand and I can't very well go rummage some up seeing as how I'm currently holding my wailing, thrashing child in a scissor lock on the kitchen floor. Now what?)
The phone was in reach so I dialed 911, calmly explained the nature of the injury and asked what would be the best way to stabilize her foot so I could move her. The response was, "Don't move her and we'll send someone out to help you." Easy enough.
After a moment Beth begged to be moved to the couch (I know, 911 said not to move her but it's her toe, not her neck for heaven's sake). She was really crying and hyperventilating a bit and I wanted to get her comfortable so Madeleine helped me lift her to the couch. We settled her on the pillows, covered her with a blanket, and said a little prayer at her request. Then she started shivering uncontrollably and her teeth began to chatter. (What? Are you going in to shock? But I put a blanket on you!)
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and help came filing in. "Someone" turned out to be a full size fire truck, an ambulance, and 5 paramedics. (Oh my. There has been a bit of an exaggeration here. Certainly half of you will leave right away). I expected only two would hang around for a minute and either pull the needle out or wrap her foot and hand her over to me to take the ER. Nope. One glance at Beth and they went into action. One kept talking to her and taking her vitals, one kept her pinned down, one wrapped her foot (Yep, rolled gauze and bandages - I should really get some of those), one asked me a dozen questions, and one was on the phone calling in the incident. (This seems like a lot of precautionary, preventative, standard procedure. It's just a needle in her toe, not a car accident!)
Once she was wrapped and ready they determined she should go in the ambulance to the hospital (Really? An ambulance is bound to be expensive. But, I guess if you call 911 maybe a ride in the ambulance comes with the deal so I shouldn't argue). They asked me more questions and gave me a minute to make arrangements for my other kids. Concerned neighbors were waiting outside and my sister-in-law was already on the way so that was no problem. (I'd better change out of my house-cleaning T-shirt and put on a sweater and some lipstick. I'm bound to be asked all kinds of 'what sort of mother leaves needles on the floor and lets her kid jump off the counter' questions. I should at least try to look like I've got my act together...) Ok., time to go.
Once loaded in the ambulance, the paramedic turned on the heart rate monitor and gave Beth oxygen (these gentlemen are very thorough. It must be a slow night) He gave Beth some pain medication and kept asking her questions. That's when I finally clued in that it was hardly Beth's toe they were worried about. She was one upset, uncomfortable, frightened little girl and, bless his heart, the paramedic scrounged all over the unit looking for a stuffed animal for her to hold. She was gripping onto me with both hands and crying and asking for daddy. After she talked to him for bit on my cell phone, she started asking for for the next best thing; Grandpa. Talking with him helped take her mind off of her foot until we could get to the hospital where Daddy was waiting.
The next four hours were a snail-paced swirl of doctors, nurses, crayons, x-rays, Disney channel, orthopedics, cell phone games, stories, and finally an IV for sedation and antibiotics (cha-ching, cha-ching). After hours of discomfort and distress Beth was broken out in a rash, fitful, and inconsolable and Luke and I were so anxious to get the IV going I even called my nurse of a sister to ask what would be the most tactful way to request we get this show on the road. However, when the team arrived to provide relief Beth took one look at the IV needle and hit the roof. They talked her down, restrained her, and promised if she started counting she would be asleep before she got to 10. She counted to 19 before she stopped and even then she was still grabbing at the IV trying to pull it out. It took 3 people to hold her down and 5 doses to get her under before one of the doctors produced a pair of pliers and pulled the needle out (Why didn't I think of that? Then we could've avoided all of this...Not really. I would never have done that. I think. Yeah, she's really better off here. I should never do that).
She was so loopy coming out of the drugs I couldn't help laughing and taking a little video. Then she got to have some juice and go home. When we walked in the door I took a look around the house. Coats, shoes, and backpacks littered the front hallway. Playdough and crayons covered the kitchen table from one end to the other and underneath it. After school snack was still strewn across the counter and three meals worth of dishes were piled in the sink. (Of all days to bring in the neighbors, the family, and fire brigade! I suppose if someone were going to choose today to determine me an unfit mother, sweater verses t-shirt would hardly do much to plead my case. Wait. What's that glimmering on the rug? Another needle! And there's another - WHERE ARE THESE THINGS COMING FROM!?!?!?) There was a hole in the needle packet we were using earlier that day. We will be more careful about that kind of thing from now on.
I was so sorry Luke had to spend a late evening at the hospital the night before he had to catch an early flight, but so glad that he was still in town when it happened. The girls and I slept in the next morning and Beth stayed home from school, again. I imposed a "shoes on at all times" rule until I had scoured the house entirely and all needles were accounted for. Now we are all tidied, swept, vacuumed, washed, dried, and everyone's toes are still attached. Beth limped a little that day and returned to school in full form the day after that.
As I sat in that not-very comfortable hospital chair waiting with Beth I thought about two things. First of all, my heart went out to every parent who has, was, or will sit at the hospital bedside of their child worrying and waiting in a serious situation. Even with the simplicity of Beth's injury I was still cringing at her pain, and I couldn't help but be aware that many serious injuries happen in moments just as quickly as Beth's small one did. Knowing that there were parents there that night fighting for the life of their child or dealing with life-altering injury made our circumstance somewhat laughable. I can't help but selfishly pray I will never be in that position, but I continue to pray for those who are. I can't imagine anything more heart wrenching.
Second, I tried to think of what we could learn from all of this. It was such a simple little accident it seemed grossly disproportionate to have ended up in an ambulance and a hospital. How is it that she managed to land on it just right so that it went right through the joint and required all the x-rays, anti-biotics, and sedation? As long as we're here can we gain something from this?
For Beth, I hope she learned how many people are behind her. When she called for help it came, in literally teams of people who stood by her bedside and cheered her on. Professionals, family, friends, neighbors, and a dozen Facebook comments are proof that she is very important to some very important people. Maybe now when her Dyslexia gets her down and it feels like the world is against her she can remember that she is loved, we are rooting for her, and help is on the way.
It's painfully obvious that life doesn't go according to textbooks. There is only so much value in knowing the right answer and checking off the list. The rest is all about being there for the ones you love, doing the best you can, and asking for help when you need it. With any luck at the end of the day we'll have learned something, like to be more grateful or how to move forward in our challenges, and that earns an "A" in my book.
In the ambulance:
Trying to be brave:
The rash (it was a deeper red in real life. Beth just saw this picture and asked, "What's that stuff all over her face? Oh, it's me."
A little pain killer goes a long way:
I have a picture of the needle in her toe but it was requested that I not post it online:) Thanks to everyone who commented, called, visited, and asked about Beth. It meant a lot to her and to us, and special thanks to Amy and Seth for keeping our other girls entertained until WAY past bedtime.
Our Valentine's celebration had three lovely phases this year. On Friday morning the girls giddily pranced to school loaded with Valentine cards and treats to share, and came home laden with more cards and treats than they knew what to do with. I love to see them excited about holidays and traditions! 
Trying to be brave:
The rash (it was a deeper red in real life. Beth just saw this picture and asked, "What's that stuff all over her face? Oh, it's me."
A little pain killer goes a long way:
I have a picture of the needle in her toe but it was requested that I not post it online:) Thanks to everyone who commented, called, visited, and asked about Beth. It meant a lot to her and to us, and special thanks to Amy and Seth for keeping our other girls entertained until WAY past bedtime.
