I knew it was going to be a crazy weekend. Earlier in the week we had agreed to babysit for our friend, Nina, which means we were planning to have a total of six kids on Saturday night.
Saturday, 11:00am: Things start to get really interesting when my friend, Liz, calls with her dilemma: all of her sitters are either busy or out of town. She has twin six year old girls. After talking to my husband, it makes sense – what’s two more? It will be like a slumber party! Besides, if we help out two of our friends, we were sure to be “owed” a night out, right?
3:30pm: The twins arrive. We all give lots of hugs all around, it’s been a while and we’ve missed them a lot. Mom leaves, things are pretty quiet. Brad’s sleeping on the couch, babies are napping, life is good….
4:00pm: The next two arrive. Things get a bit loud, girls are everywhere, but they’re all listening, so it’s not too bad. Did I remember to get wine?
4:30pm: The doorbell rings, my daughter answers, I hear, “Get your mom! Ray fell off his bike, he’s bleeding!” So, I jump up, run out the door down the street to Ray (which I’m pretty sure is a sight in itself), who’s crouched on the ground. When I come around to his face, all I see is the blood in his mouth, the veins on his forehead, broken and red, bulging out from the very noticeable egg forming just underneath. He’s holding his arm. I can formulate what’s happened through the bits and pieces of the story going back and forth between the other kids who were riding with Ray. As I take off his riding gloves (which I’m pretty sure are Brad’s, but that can wait) I can see it. There’s something about his arm that just doesn’t look right: it’s crooked? We walk back to the house slowly, kids running up and gathering all around to see just how bad it is. After getting him cleaned up, we get in the car and start our trek to the hospital.
5:15pm: Triage. They’re asking questions about his history, allergies, pain scale. I look around the waiting room, trying to gauge just how long everyone’s been here. There’s no one sleeping, that’s a good sign. There is a woman surrounded by about four police officers. It isn’t until later that I notice her feet – and the shackles… Odd, she’s just a tiny thing.
6:34pm: Watching Underworld in the waiting room. I vow to Ray that if they don’t call him back by 6:45 I will ask how much longer they think it’ll be. I send Brad a text to see how he’s doing. “OMG! What were we thinking?” is his response. Part of me feels guilty, the other part relieved. At least he’s still got his sense of humor. (That is humor, right?)
7:00pm: I decide to see if we can at least get back to x-ray. I don’t think I could bear going back into the ER then waiting another hour just to get the x-ray, then waiting another hour for the doctor to look at it. She agrees, and 15 minutes later we’re in x-ray. I can see it when the image is displayed on the technicians screen. The fracture is very apparent, even without years of training and experience.
7:45pm: Back to the waiting room. Ray’s starting to get a bit impatient. It’s understandable, so I don’t get too frustrated. Finally, our number is up. We get a room! It’s small, but it has it’s own TV. Ray lies down on the bed. I’m just watching him while he watches television. I start to think back. It’s so hard to believe he’s 11 years old. I remember when he was born, I remember the NICU, I remember the trips to the Kluge center, I remember his first words, I remember his favorite shows (2: Blue’s Clues & Teletubbies 3: Out of the Box & PB&J Otter 4: Spongebob), it all comes back to me. Where did the time go?
8:00pm: The doctor comes in, it’s broken. (Duh.) Another girl comes in to wrap it up, and yet another to give us our discharge papers. Finally, three hours later, we’re free.
Well, free until we get home, to a house full of kids, loud kids, loud hungry kids. What were we thinking??
Recent Comments