**** Warning - Graphic pictures****
The Wednesday before we left Munich for the last time, we had a holiday from school. My new friend C, texted me about noon and asked if I would like to drop the girls by her place for a playdate with a bunch of other friends. I readily agreed because I still had a ton of packing to do and having the kids occupied out of the house would be a lifesaver. I dropped the girls and told C that B would be back to pick them up in a few hours. I should have known that packing in peace was too good to be true.
I had just returned home when my phone rang. It was my friend M, who was also at the playdate with her children, and she didn't have good news. She said that Stinkerbell had cut her foot open while somersaulting on the bed (why do they always break the rules when away from home?) and that I probably had to take her to the hospital. No, scratch that, she
definitely needed to be picked up and taken to the emergency room. I was back in the car in a flash. Thankfully, my friend C is a nurse and knew just what to do to keep Stinkerbell's foot from getting any worse because Lord knows, it was bad enough already.
M volunteered to come to the hospital with me (C really wanted to - being a nurse and all - but she also had a house full of other people's children and couldn't). We loaded our patient in the car and headed to the best children's emergency room which is around the corner from our house. (I was starting to feel like a ping-pong ball). I carried Stinkerbell in, signed the forms I could (but not without a bit of trouble with the German) and then we all sat back and waited to be seen. And waited. Remember, it was a national holiday and there was only a skeleton staff on duty and 3 people before us. Finally, we were taken into an exam room and set up on a bed to wait a bit longer.
And then it got even worse than it already was. The nurse had to clean out the cut and I had to hold Stinkerbell down to keep her from kicking or trying to run away. And I get it. I had finally gotten a good look at the cut and it was not pretty - ***Here is the graphic photo. I have given you some space on both ends to scroll right past it if you would rather skip it***
She had sliced it all the way to the tendon (missing it by a hair!) and the nurse had just told us she had to wipe down the inside of the whole cut. Yes, I said INSIDE. Youch! Stinkerbell was as brave as could be in the situation and C's quick thinking and nursing skills made the cut so much better (note to self - use sanitary napkins on heavily bleeding cuts to soak up the blood, and then wrap tightly with tape to keep the cut closed). We had just settled her back down when the Dr. told Stinkerbell she would need stitches. So much for calm but I am not sure how she thought we were going to keep it closed otherwise. The tray of needles and sutures did nothing to ease her anxiety when they left it right next to her.
We calmed her down, again, put on some Ariana Grande and let the teenage doctor do his thing. I jest about the teenage thing but he was soooooo young I swore I could have been his mother. It makes sense, it was a huge holiday and he drew the short seniority straw. But I wish he hadn't because even though he sewed her up quickly, it was almost like he was cadaver stitching. And when I told C how many stitches she got (5) and the fact that she didn't get a walking boot, she about flipped out and asked how she was going to walk. I told her that Doogie Howser had told us she wasn't. She was going to stay off of it for a full week. Like, laying on the couch off of it for a full 7 days. Like being carried everywhere for 7 days. I had argued with him at the hospital, stating that she had school (I was to keep her home), she is an active child (So??? Just tell her to lay still.) and we had an international flight in 6 days. He didn't really care and the prescription he sent us home with was rest for a full week. This was just not going to work - no way, no how. C to the rescue - she dropped off a walking boot at school the next morning.
We finally made it home to lay the patient down on the couch and gave her some cheese balls for her bravery...
And then spent the next 6 days with crutches, a walking boot and a lot of rest before boarding the plane in a wheelchair (who would have thought?) and make our way back home.
It has now been 18 days since the accident. We have been to the doctor two different times to have our stitches removed because as our new pediatrician said, "the doctor that did this was clearly in a hurry and not in their right mind because 5 stitches are about 20 too few." Today, Stinkerbell got to lose the boot and walk out of the office in two shoes. And she couldn't be happier!!!
The stitches are gone but that scar will be there for quite some time!
Happy girl!
