Mothers don't spew out old adages for nothing. There really are those instances where she's right, you know. Take, for instance, what Mothers are always saying about wearing clean underwear in case you're in an accident or not running with a sucker in your mouth because you might get it crammed down your throat. Or how about the old sharp stick warning? You might poke yourself in the eye, they keeping saying.
And what do Mothers get for all their cautions? Disbelief. Doubt. "That won't really happen or at least not to me."
Well, bad stuff really can happen to those who defy "Mothers' Laws".
Paul was just getting into the truck again where I had been waiting with baby Clay. He was on the phone and I could only hear his side of the conversation. It was riddled with many surprised gasps and the questions he was asking whoever it was were the kind that were setting off my Mommy Radar.
"Who is it???? What happened???" I was saying. Finally Paul hands me the phone with a simple: Trevor poked himself in the eye with a seam ripper.
Horrors! What was I supposed to do with that?????? If you are reading this and are a Mother, what would you have done if you happened to be an hour away at the time and just heard that your precious darling two year old just did that??
Logan was the one trying to explain the injury to me. He hadn't seen it happen. Yes, he definitely poked it.....his eye looks weird....there are 2 white spots in the brown part....the middle, you know how it's supposed to be round? It's a weird shape now.....no, he's sleeping....yeah, sleeping. Right after it happened he put his fingers in his mouth and went to sleep....no, he didn't bang his head....no, the girls aren't home....I'm not sure if he should go to the emergency room...ok, I'll take him to Grandma's.....yes, I'll let you know what she says....ok, bye.
After the eternity of the next 5 minutes went by, Logan calls back. Grandma wasn't sure what to say. There was some balm to that. At least Grandma didn't take one look at it and notice that his eye ball was about to fall out of its socket. Grandma was, afterall, a Mother before she was a Grandmother and I trust her expressly to mete out medical assessments.
We decided to wait and see until we got home. We started the journey at once. Before we were quite half way we get another call. The girls returned home and were looking things over. They weren't giving very comforting descriptions. Until it was all said and done I was told that his cornea looked like something had been in his eye and pulled out and that the pupil was drawing into a tear drop shape.
Paul, bless him, was trying to drive and deal with a caged Momma Bear. He made sense, what he was saying, though. Even if it turned out to be worse case scenario and Trevor lost his eye, what could we do about it? Our lives are in God's hands and we can't prevent every bad thing that could ever happen to our children. Not happy news, but at the same time true. Many mothers have grieved much more catastrophic incidents than I have ever had to face.
It was decided we'd meet them at the hospital. I called ahead to tell the ER that my children are bringing in my two year old because he poked himself in the eye with a seam ripper. To this the astonished nurse on the phone says, "How old are your children, ma'am??" I quickly allayed her vision of ten year olds racing up to the emergency room doors in an Oldsmobile or something. Is it so unusual for a two year old to have a couple of adult siblings?
Maria was sitting on a chair and Christine was on the bed holding her sleeping little brother-in-law. The doctor came in, did a quicky look and told us his pupil was in a tear drop shape and he needed to be seen up at the big children's hospital up north. He called them and told them we were coming. The eye patch and antibiotic shot he promised didn't come and didn't come as we waited and waited....
Paul finally declared the situation ridiculous. He stepped out to tell the doctor that by the time they come with the stuff we could be about to the next hospital. Besides, why did Trevor really need an eye patch, he was sleeping soundly. This was met with an assurance that it would be just another few minutes.
"Let's go," Paul announces to us the very next moment. The three of us girls had no choice but to quickly follow Paul, the assertive father, as he marched right on out of that hospital with his small child firmly cradled in his strong arms. It was almost funny, actually. We jumped into the two trucks we had and drove off. Maria had Paul and Trevor. Christine had Clay and me.
Christine and I were laughing, "What if they come after us?? What if we get in trouble??" What could they do? Send us back to the first hospital like a small child who ran in school and was to come back and WALK next time?
We got to the big hospital. We got to stop at two desks of paperwork on our way in. I guess they need to know they were getting paid. I understand this. I just don't think immediately upon arrival at the EMERGENCY room (think EMERGENCY here) they need to detain arrivals for so many questions and such. I will say, the time we showed up at an ER with a dangling and barely breathing Garth once upon a time the attending physician wasted no time half leaping over the desk to provide immediate assistance. Now, that's what I call EMERGENCY action! I am going to assume they make fairly accurate appraisals of true emergencies vs those that are less so.
Anyhow, the first doctor came in and looked Trevor over. She decided to get an i.v. started and call in the ophthalmologist specialist team. Team she said! Turned out we only ever saw one from whatever size team she was talking about. She was very good and very thorough. I am sure that it helped considerably that Trevor slept soundly through most of it (it was around midnight or after when she started checking him out). His biggest grievance with the whole affair is when he woke up near the end; he discovered his two favorite sucking fingers had been imprisoned by the i.v., gauze, and tape. Was he ever upset about this!
We had sent out a lot of prayer requests en route, and you know what? I think God performed a miracle. The ophthalmologist determined it NOT to be a puncture but a corneal abrasion (scratch, you know). When the girls saw him after his release from the ordeal, they said it didn't look a thing like they had seen it before they took him in.
I don't know.....I didn't see it from the start, but I'm willing to go with miracle.
He gets to have eye drops for the next few days.
~Colleen
