TWO late-night trips to the ER!
Christmas Eve, after returning from Mom-in-Law's festivities and hanging our stockings by the chimney with care, we opened the traditional One Early Present. Then, Hubby and the Sons watched TV while I sacked out. Because, you know, I like my sleep. It was only 9pm, but something told me I would really need it.
And at 10, I found out what I'd need it for.
Son #4, in a Christmas Eve frenzy (and who could blame him? So far, all he's received is 2 articles of clothing and a jumbo package of Swedish Fish) ran down the hall for a blanket and snagged a nail that had popped out of the paneling.
With his arm.
So, I took him to the ER while Hubby sent the rest of the Sons to bed and went back downstairs to continue Christmas Prep.
You know, when you slash your arm, the wound pulls open and you can see all the globby bits of fat, puffing out. It's not as cool as you'd think, when it's on your own arm. Or on your son's.
We were, again, amazed at the speed and efficiency of the new, improved triage center at St Mary's Hospital. I, personally, was glad just not to recognize any of the staff.
Once the anesthesia kicked in and the repair work commenced, Son #4 asked what any 11-year-old House fan would ask.
"So, Dr. Esterhay, have you ever treated a CIPA patient?"
Unfortunately, being a real ER surgeon, and not a dedicated House fan, Dr. Esterhay had not, in fact, ever treated a CIPA patient. He was not even familiar with the term. He was kind, though, and quick, and I think the scar will be of the "cool, not horrific" variety.
Son #4 now has a 2-inch long, crescent-shaped wound with tons of bitchin' stitches and a story to tell. I swear, lately these boys will do ANYTHING to earn mention on the blog.
After we open presents this morning, I'm going to make the other two Sons flip a coin.