Every mother's worst nightmare...
Ok, maybe not every mother, and maybe not worst, but bad enough to warrant another trip to the emergency room
I'm starting to think I should start a blog just on the mishaps of Theodora...
So, we were in the city again for a few days, and on the last night there, last night actually, we stopped by a friends house (Kenny and Camilla) to hang out and visit and such... We get hungry, and Ed talks me into cooking while he goes to tie up some loose ends at the job site...
Literally 10 seconds before dinner was done I hear the crashing, and clatter in the other room, and I run out of the kitchen and into the semi hallway with the 3 other girls there, to find Adora lying in a pile of broken glass... and not the shattering kind like a windshield will make when it breaks, but huge chunks and shards sharper than razor blades all around her....
Somehow she had knocked or pulled down a very tall mirror that was leaning against the wall, and it fell and broke right on top of her...
My first instinct upon seeing her frightened and screaming on the floor, was to pick her up, never minding the possibility of getting cut myself, I just wanted to get her out of there as soon as possible, before she moved on her own, before she got cut... that was before I saw the blood...
At first I couldn't tell where it was coming from, it was everywhere... I did pick her up, of course, and as I held her in my arms, both of us terrified, the streaks all over her face seemed to all be huge gaping wounds
I fought back the panic with every ounce of me and, near to hysteria but somehow keeping my cool, I got the idea to run water over her, both to wash away any unseen glass still on her as well as locate the actual cuts...
Getting her clothes off was a bit of a chore... Though I naturally gave up rescuing them from any blood stains, way too late for that as it was, I was still nervous and trying to be careful to not worsen what wounds she already had...
"It's okay baby girl, you're fine, you're such a good girl, you're ok, it's okay, it's alright honey, calm down" all of this I'm saying as much to myself as I am to her... She was actually handling it fine... till the water came... I've never heard her scream so loud or seen her shake so intensely... It chilled me to the bone. Words can't even contain the turbulent rivers of all my thoughts, fears and emotions, as I tried desperately to calm her as well as see for sure how bad the damage was... I was so afraid that it was worse than I could bear... 'her beautiful face is ruined' I heard myself thinking... I checked all over her body, and as the water made it's way with my eyes I could finally see that it was NOT THAT BAD!!!!!...
One slightly deep cut on her forehead, with a few surface cuts, and some tiny thin slices on her hands....
I held her, naked and wet, with a towel around her body and tissue pressed to her head... and just breathed... I wanted to freeze up... scream... tear down walls, I don't know... but all I could do was breathe. Half of me in shock, and the other half thanking God in dizzy, bewildered relief. How easily it could have been worse, and yet, was so scary and raw and insane I thought my head would explode...
When I let go of the cut, I could see that it was rather wide and deep looking, and I was sure it would need stitches, while the others were nothing major really, though they sure contributed to the blood flow.
The girls (Camilla and her sister and one of her roommates) were each wonderful, angels really, bringing me every thing I asked for in seconds... One cleaned up the glass, and another held Chloe', and Camilla stood by, feeling my fear and pain...
I had said already that I was sure I should take her to the hospital, that she would probably need stitches...(and was again soooo glad I had Medi-Cal) and Camilla offered to go with. Thank God for people like that. I am so shy to ask for help usually, and it was soo relieving just to have her there. We both felt bad, me for the drama I brought to her house and the mess and the mirror, and her for not having a more child proof home... On both sides we were each easily forgiven, and forgiving...
Luckily the hospital was only a block away, no joke, and we were seen right away...
I had put a band-aid on to hold the cut shut and explained to the nurse that it was really wide, but at first glance he and the doctor both thought the band-aid was enough... Then after cleaning the area, it opened up again and he could see that it was as wide as I was saying. They didn't do stitches, but they have this stuff called dermabond, that is basically like a super glue for skin, and works as good if not better than stitches, and they used that...
Teddy was such a trooper I could hardly believe it. She was laughing and playful and friendly the whole time, and didn't cry but once when they put the stuff on, which I'm told does sting quite a bit. They had expected her to cry more than she did, and I was so proud of her... not that I would blame her at all if she did totally freak out, but her ability to recover from trauma so quickly and effortlessly sure was a blessed treat for my already shot nerves...
It almost didn't feel real, the way it went from, my daughter's about to die, to she's scarred for life- kiss that supermodel career goodbye, to it's ok, just a big boo boo, to giggling and flirting in the hospital room... All in a half an hour...
Camilla joked on the way home that the nurses, seeing our rings, might have assumed that we were married to each other, as 2 mothers... Not too strange a notion in the city.... since there was no "dad" there...
Well...comic relief... and home we went.. to finally eat our pasta, and relax, or try, till daddy came home...
Gosh... I really don't know if I can survive another scare like that, let alone something really bad happening.. I probably shouldn't but I can't stop thinking about how bad it could have been.. I mean it landed and broke right over her face, it could've been her eye or mouth or throat.... Ok I should stop.. I'm really just so thankful, and can't count my blessings enough.... All that glass and to walk away with such minor cuts that "should heal nicely", and "I wouldn't expect any permanent scar at all"
Can you believe it?
The craziest thing is how a tiny part of me regretted not getting pictures...As if I'll ever want to see that horrid sight again... And who wouldn't think me the completely insensitive wack-job to have the time in all of that to whip a camera out...
but I guess I'm not the only nutcase, cuz 1 out of every 2 or 3 people I've told asked if I got pictures...
it's funny what blogging does to a person.. when you start getting this sense of meticulously documenting your life.. you don't want to miss a single thing...
As a writer I can understand it somewhat... Almost everything I go through in life has to be filtered through this part of me that "writes" it all out in my mind... Every good or bad event is constantly bumbling about in this or that array of words, till it finds the 'just right' fit and it all makes sense... I can hardly understand some things sometimes till I've successfully worded it all in such a way as to draw on the feelings I had at the time... Words are my coping skill I guess, and though pictures are said to paint a thousand of them, and though I aspire secretly to excel in photography one day, that is one picture I don't need painted in my mind any more than these thoughts I share that are my release...
I'm starting to think I should start a blog just on the mishaps of Theodora...
So, we were in the city again for a few days, and on the last night there, last night actually, we stopped by a friends house (Kenny and Camilla) to hang out and visit and such... We get hungry, and Ed talks me into cooking while he goes to tie up some loose ends at the job site...
Literally 10 seconds before dinner was done I hear the crashing, and clatter in the other room, and I run out of the kitchen and into the semi hallway with the 3 other girls there, to find Adora lying in a pile of broken glass... and not the shattering kind like a windshield will make when it breaks, but huge chunks and shards sharper than razor blades all around her....
Somehow she had knocked or pulled down a very tall mirror that was leaning against the wall, and it fell and broke right on top of her...
My first instinct upon seeing her frightened and screaming on the floor, was to pick her up, never minding the possibility of getting cut myself, I just wanted to get her out of there as soon as possible, before she moved on her own, before she got cut... that was before I saw the blood...
At first I couldn't tell where it was coming from, it was everywhere... I did pick her up, of course, and as I held her in my arms, both of us terrified, the streaks all over her face seemed to all be huge gaping wounds
I fought back the panic with every ounce of me and, near to hysteria but somehow keeping my cool, I got the idea to run water over her, both to wash away any unseen glass still on her as well as locate the actual cuts...
Getting her clothes off was a bit of a chore... Though I naturally gave up rescuing them from any blood stains, way too late for that as it was, I was still nervous and trying to be careful to not worsen what wounds she already had...
"It's okay baby girl, you're fine, you're such a good girl, you're ok, it's okay, it's alright honey, calm down" all of this I'm saying as much to myself as I am to her... She was actually handling it fine... till the water came... I've never heard her scream so loud or seen her shake so intensely... It chilled me to the bone. Words can't even contain the turbulent rivers of all my thoughts, fears and emotions, as I tried desperately to calm her as well as see for sure how bad the damage was... I was so afraid that it was worse than I could bear... 'her beautiful face is ruined' I heard myself thinking... I checked all over her body, and as the water made it's way with my eyes I could finally see that it was NOT THAT BAD!!!!!...
One slightly deep cut on her forehead, with a few surface cuts, and some tiny thin slices on her hands....
I held her, naked and wet, with a towel around her body and tissue pressed to her head... and just breathed... I wanted to freeze up... scream... tear down walls, I don't know... but all I could do was breathe. Half of me in shock, and the other half thanking God in dizzy, bewildered relief. How easily it could have been worse, and yet, was so scary and raw and insane I thought my head would explode...
When I let go of the cut, I could see that it was rather wide and deep looking, and I was sure it would need stitches, while the others were nothing major really, though they sure contributed to the blood flow.
The girls (Camilla and her sister and one of her roommates) were each wonderful, angels really, bringing me every thing I asked for in seconds... One cleaned up the glass, and another held Chloe', and Camilla stood by, feeling my fear and pain...
I had said already that I was sure I should take her to the hospital, that she would probably need stitches...(and was again soooo glad I had Medi-Cal) and Camilla offered to go with. Thank God for people like that. I am so shy to ask for help usually, and it was soo relieving just to have her there. We both felt bad, me for the drama I brought to her house and the mess and the mirror, and her for not having a more child proof home... On both sides we were each easily forgiven, and forgiving...
Luckily the hospital was only a block away, no joke, and we were seen right away...
I had put a band-aid on to hold the cut shut and explained to the nurse that it was really wide, but at first glance he and the doctor both thought the band-aid was enough... Then after cleaning the area, it opened up again and he could see that it was as wide as I was saying. They didn't do stitches, but they have this stuff called dermabond, that is basically like a super glue for skin, and works as good if not better than stitches, and they used that...
Teddy was such a trooper I could hardly believe it. She was laughing and playful and friendly the whole time, and didn't cry but once when they put the stuff on, which I'm told does sting quite a bit. They had expected her to cry more than she did, and I was so proud of her... not that I would blame her at all if she did totally freak out, but her ability to recover from trauma so quickly and effortlessly sure was a blessed treat for my already shot nerves...
It almost didn't feel real, the way it went from, my daughter's about to die, to she's scarred for life- kiss that supermodel career goodbye, to it's ok, just a big boo boo, to giggling and flirting in the hospital room... All in a half an hour...
Camilla joked on the way home that the nurses, seeing our rings, might have assumed that we were married to each other, as 2 mothers... Not too strange a notion in the city.... since there was no "dad" there...
Well...comic relief... and home we went.. to finally eat our pasta, and relax, or try, till daddy came home...
Gosh... I really don't know if I can survive another scare like that, let alone something really bad happening.. I probably shouldn't but I can't stop thinking about how bad it could have been.. I mean it landed and broke right over her face, it could've been her eye or mouth or throat.... Ok I should stop.. I'm really just so thankful, and can't count my blessings enough.... All that glass and to walk away with such minor cuts that "should heal nicely", and "I wouldn't expect any permanent scar at all"
Can you believe it?
The craziest thing is how a tiny part of me regretted not getting pictures...As if I'll ever want to see that horrid sight again... And who wouldn't think me the completely insensitive wack-job to have the time in all of that to whip a camera out...
but I guess I'm not the only nutcase, cuz 1 out of every 2 or 3 people I've told asked if I got pictures...
it's funny what blogging does to a person.. when you start getting this sense of meticulously documenting your life.. you don't want to miss a single thing...
As a writer I can understand it somewhat... Almost everything I go through in life has to be filtered through this part of me that "writes" it all out in my mind... Every good or bad event is constantly bumbling about in this or that array of words, till it finds the 'just right' fit and it all makes sense... I can hardly understand some things sometimes till I've successfully worded it all in such a way as to draw on the feelings I had at the time... Words are my coping skill I guess, and though pictures are said to paint a thousand of them, and though I aspire secretly to excel in photography one day, that is one picture I don't need painted in my mind any more than these thoughts I share that are my release...
posted by 1weirdgirl at 12:56 AM
5 Comments:
That is so, so scary. I'm so glad she's okay.
Again, I am reminded to say: "Thank you God, for watching over them and keeping them safe." I agree, the picture and fear will remain steadfast in your mind, so better you don't have a copy to remind you. Just continue to rejoice and praise God.
Curtis ALWAYS gets pictures. Ususally after the blood stops flowing, though. He's not too sick. I've been thinking of writing of some of Jed's mishaps, and this kind of inspired me. Thank God the Supermodel career wasn't ruined!
Thank God that he gave you the presence of mind to know what to do in the situation. Yes, children are our responsibility, but we can only protect them so much. It's so important to place them in God's hands and trust him with the rest. He is so faithful to his wee children.
phew! I get so nervous when jaben is in his crib b/c now he can sit/stand and he shakes it soo hard it sounds like it is gonna colapse. Or I worry about the bus falling into his room, or his heater setting on fire, ugg. (our bus is stuck in the mud sinking sideways towards his room!) I would freak out. Now I have one of those backpack carriers and I always think of the trauma you had with yours...I felt so bad for you having to handle all those things at once with no help. I don't like to go many places alone with jaben, of course I don't really go anywhere. :) but my time is coming. Oh, and I like the same as you, movies that are love sappy such. no horror violence.
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