I’m not the kind of mom who freaks out over every little scrape and bruise my kids get. At least not anymore. Maybe I was with my first one. But after number two, three, and four…you loosen up a little. “Get up. You’re okay. Brush it off. Quit crying.” And we go on. There’s no time for excessive whining. Get up and get over it. Unless it needs bandaged, then you get a few more extra hugs and kisses before we go on with it.
But what happened the Monday before last was terrible. I have never seen anything like it and don’t ever want to again. I’m still in a little bit of shock from the accident. Especially since it was my fault. It was an accident, though. And I know accidents happen…but I still feel horrible.
We were just going out the back door to let the dogs in and I shut the door behind me to wipe off muddy dog paws. Collin screamed. Everything happened so fast. Instinctively I flew the door open. Holy crap, it was shut all the way with his fingers in it! I grabbed him up and put him on the counter to look at it. That’s when I about passed out. The tip of his little pinky finger was hanging off, like the top of a flip top box of Crayola crayons. It was so unnatural looking. It looked dead It was purple and black and bloody. It looked like something from a horror movie. It was just hanging there by a tiny piece of skin. Blood was gushing out of a gaping hole and he was screaming. Tears ran down my face and I was freaking out. It was chaos, adrenaline, screaming, panic, frantic phone calls, and a million things all at once.
There were so many thoughts rushing and zinging through my head as I was trying to calm down (which I wasn’t doing a very good job at) and comfort my severely hurt child. And with each scream the blood gushed out of his finger even faster, obliterating a hand towel, and I was having a hard time not breaking down with him. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I called Brad immediately. I don’t even remember what I said. I was screaming at him because I was trying to yell over Collin’s screaming. I made sure he got the basics. Come home. Leave now. Emergency room. It’s bad. Hurry. Collin’s finger is practically falling off. It got shut in the door. Or something like that.
And you know, adrenaline does crazy things. All the while I am holding onto him and trying to comfort him, “Hold on, baby. Daddy’s coming. We’re going to go to the doctor and fix it,” and these crazy thoughts just kept screaming in my head each time I looked at his severed finger or the blood drops on the floor. What have I done? Holy crap! His fingers going to fall off! I’m a horrible mother. Don’t let that finger fall off. BREATH. If it does keep track of it so they can sew it back on. BREATH. I’m a horrible mother. I can’t even be left alone with my kids. I ruined my perfect child. What have I done? I can’t believe it is practically falling off. BREATH. Hurry up, Brad, and get here. Dammit, Mom answer your phone. Call Brandi. Call Mom. Somebody has to be here with the twins. I can’t leave the babies.BREATH. I’m so glad the babies are sleeping. Thankfully the dogs are outside. I was so afraid the finger would fall off and the dogs would eat it. This is terrible. This is really bad. BREATH. I need to get someone over here to watch the babies so I can ride with to the ER and make sure that finger doesn’t fall off on the way there. Holy, crap! I can’t believe it is hanging off like that. ANSWER your phone Mom! Call Connie. Get someone over here. I’m going with to the ER. Try to stay calm. Steady the room. BREATH. Don’t keep looking at it. Holy, crap. His finger is barely attached. Holy, shit! I’m a horrible mother. Stay calm. BREATH. Hold your baby close. I can’t believe it is hanging there! BREATH.
And the rest was a blur. A dash out to the car. I rode in the back seat with Collin. Brad told me to stay calm. I tried not to cry even more. “I feel so horrible. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t even see his hand,” I said, holding back bawling sobs. I sucked it in and tried to distract Collin with a game on Brad’s phone. He was crying and screaming the whole time. I can’t even imagine the pain my poor baby was in. Ugh!
They got us right in at the hospital. They called it a partial amputation. Holy crap! They gave him a shot…a nerve block…so he wouldn’t feel it. I went outside to get air. I couldn’t see the shot. His dad was there. I needed a breather and to collect myself. I needed to get it together for him. Which I’m usually pretty calm in situations, but this was just something else. I have never seen anything like it. And I felt so horrible!
They stitched it all the way around. Frankenstein finger. They bandaged it up and gave us prescriptions. You could tell the shot helped. Gotta love pain meds. Phew!
I went home and crashed.
I thought Collin would nap after all that. But he was running around. No bandaged finger was going to slow him down.
And I am so happy that he says the door did it….not Mommy. He points to the door and says, “Broke. Broke. Ow!” (Even though his finger did not get smashed way at the top.)
Cute video below of Collin comforting Mallie and then he showed her his owie and she kissed it. Awww…they can be so cute.
I know accidents happen….but I still feel horrible.
your writeing never fails to make me feel what your writeing if its funny i laugh my butt off if its sad like this was i cry .. you are very good at this i love reading your stories ..
Pingback: My Little Tough Guy | Amanda St.Clair