ER trip #9
I least I think it's the ninth ER trip for our family. It could be more and I just lost count. My cold is not better and my brain is exceedingly foggy. You'll understand why it's not improved in just a moment.
[Edited to add, I did forget a trip... A's little skiing adventure. So this is actually trip number 10.)
(For those wish queasy stomachs, make sure you are not eating while you read this. It's not bad, but thought I'd give a heads up.)
Last night at bedtime, and J. and I were going around to the various rooms doing the nighttime tucking in routine, I hear a wail from R. and then J. asks me to come. My immediate thought is, "Oh dang, it's seizure time," since I'm expecting one imminently. But it wasn't a seizure. Instead, somehow, and we will have to be baffled and without answers for the rest of our lives, R.'s stud earring on one ear got pushed into her ear lobe. Yes, that's right. You couldn't see the front of the earring, but you could see the back. And a lot of blood.
J. at first tried to just push the front of the earring through again. The only thing that accomplished was to elicit more blood and lots of screaming. (I'm sure it hurt.) We stare at the ear for a moment and I remember that I have a lifetime supply of Emla cream (Lidocaine... a topical numbing agent) leftover from tissue expansions and so apply a very large dose on her ear lobe. I'm thinking, if we can just get it numb enough, then we can push the earring back through her ear. While the Emla cream helped with her general pain, it wasn't enough to allow us to fiddle with the earring without causing anguish. We stop and stare at R.'s ear again. I take a turn trying to push it out and realize that you can't even feel the front of the earring through the front of her ear lobe.
That's when we knew... yes, it was time to head to the ER where they had anesthetic shots and doctors who could pull the thing out. J., my sainted husband, volunteered to go and headed off with a very sad R. in tow. At least it wasn't the weekend, but still we both have enough experience with ER's to know that an earring caught in an ear would not rank terribly high on the triage list. It looked to be a long night.
And it was. They left about 9 pm, and didn't get into a room until around midnight. Then, J. had the fun of "getting" to watch Frozen yet one more time in a hospital. Yes, the entire thing was viewed before a doctor came to start treatment. Eventually they gave R. several shots in her ear lobe and then pushed the earring right out. We have to keep an eye on it and apply some antibiotic ointment twice a day for a while, but everything will be fine.
If we get through the day, that is. Miss Early Bird, having gone to bed at 2:30 am, was up and not-quite-at-em at 7 am this morning. Her ear hurts. (Understandably.) But lest we forget her ear hurts, we have been informed of this fact approximately 2.5 millions times already. I shall endeavor to be the kind and patient parent, even though I wasn't really sleeping while I lay in bed waiting for them. This did not improve my cold.
The only thing that will make the next 24 hours even better is if R. does happen to have a seizure tonight. It will be like a cherry on top of the ice cream.
(Hmmmm.... evidently, there is a direct inverse correlation between my use of sarcasm and my physical health. I do feel for R., really, I do.)
[Edited to add, I did forget a trip... A's little skiing adventure. So this is actually trip number 10.)
(For those wish queasy stomachs, make sure you are not eating while you read this. It's not bad, but thought I'd give a heads up.)
Last night at bedtime, and J. and I were going around to the various rooms doing the nighttime tucking in routine, I hear a wail from R. and then J. asks me to come. My immediate thought is, "Oh dang, it's seizure time," since I'm expecting one imminently. But it wasn't a seizure. Instead, somehow, and we will have to be baffled and without answers for the rest of our lives, R.'s stud earring on one ear got pushed into her ear lobe. Yes, that's right. You couldn't see the front of the earring, but you could see the back. And a lot of blood.
J. at first tried to just push the front of the earring through again. The only thing that accomplished was to elicit more blood and lots of screaming. (I'm sure it hurt.) We stare at the ear for a moment and I remember that I have a lifetime supply of Emla cream (Lidocaine... a topical numbing agent) leftover from tissue expansions and so apply a very large dose on her ear lobe. I'm thinking, if we can just get it numb enough, then we can push the earring back through her ear. While the Emla cream helped with her general pain, it wasn't enough to allow us to fiddle with the earring without causing anguish. We stop and stare at R.'s ear again. I take a turn trying to push it out and realize that you can't even feel the front of the earring through the front of her ear lobe.
That's when we knew... yes, it was time to head to the ER where they had anesthetic shots and doctors who could pull the thing out. J., my sainted husband, volunteered to go and headed off with a very sad R. in tow. At least it wasn't the weekend, but still we both have enough experience with ER's to know that an earring caught in an ear would not rank terribly high on the triage list. It looked to be a long night.
And it was. They left about 9 pm, and didn't get into a room until around midnight. Then, J. had the fun of "getting" to watch Frozen yet one more time in a hospital. Yes, the entire thing was viewed before a doctor came to start treatment. Eventually they gave R. several shots in her ear lobe and then pushed the earring right out. We have to keep an eye on it and apply some antibiotic ointment twice a day for a while, but everything will be fine.
If we get through the day, that is. Miss Early Bird, having gone to bed at 2:30 am, was up and not-quite-at-em at 7 am this morning. Her ear hurts. (Understandably.) But lest we forget her ear hurts, we have been informed of this fact approximately 2.5 millions times already. I shall endeavor to be the kind and patient parent, even though I wasn't really sleeping while I lay in bed waiting for them. This did not improve my cold.
The only thing that will make the next 24 hours even better is if R. does happen to have a seizure tonight. It will be like a cherry on top of the ice cream.
(Hmmmm.... evidently, there is a direct inverse correlation between my use of sarcasm and my physical health. I do feel for R., really, I do.)
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