
The morning after Jimmy bandaged it for me

After Dr. Spice bandaged it for me
Isabella caught a cold over the weekend so I decided to keep her indoors this past Monday so she could rest and continue to heal. By 3:00 pm she was itching to get outside so I suggested we get all bundled up since it was raining that day and go for a walk. She was very into this idea and immediately climbed into her stroller.
Mia still needed to be dressed and placed in her carrier, blankets needed to be packed and I needed some shoes. As Isabella became less patient, I became more hurried and remembered that my shoes were on the floor near the foot of our bed. I sprinted down our hallway towards the bedroom where I saw my boots.
I bent down but before my arms could reach them I was abruptly interrupted when my left eye caught the very sharp corner of our heavy wooden bed.
I saw stars. For a moment I felt what it must be like for an egg that had just been cracked for an omelette. I haven't felt physical pain like that since I broke and dislocated my kneecap while cross-country skiing years ago. Upon impact I felt a pain so intense that I could smell it, it's reach radiated through my nose out to my cheeks and wrapped itself around my head.
I knew whatever I had done was bad but somehow kept it together and didn't scream or cry. I didn't make a sound and amazingly not one four-letter word left my lips. I don't know where this calmness came from because inside I was screaming but I knew it had something to do with the two little souls in the other room waiting not-so-patiently for their mama.
I walked down the hallway to where Isabella and Mia were waiting with my hand covering my eye. I was so afraid to look at what I had just done that my hand stayed there for what seemed like hours while I wondered how bad it actually was. I thought for sure if I opened my left eye I wouldn't be able to see. I thought the worst and didn't want to face it just yet. I calmly told Isabella that we weren't going for a walk after all and that I was taking her out of the stroller. She cried. Hard.
In that moment all I could do was let her which was in many ways even more painful.
I finally found the nerve to remove my hand to see what the damage was and my fingers were covered in blood. A lot of blood. I then walked over to the mirror and saw that I was bleeding from a cut above my eye and not actually from my eye. When I opened my eye I could see. It was at that point that I finally exhaled and found my breath. I knew it was bad but I also knew that my eye was fine and it could have been so much worse. I was in pain but also felt relief.
I called Jimmy who told me he would come home as soon as he was able. Later that evening he constructed a small butterfly bandage, putting my eyelid back together as best as he could.
When Isabella saw the blood she was understandably scared and she cried harder. I sat with her and just held her and tried to forget my pain while easing hers. Over the past few days we've talked a lot about what happened so she could connect it all and understand that we all get boo boos sometimes.
I wanted to encourage her to talk about her feelings having witnessed this and not keep those fears about what she saw inside. Last night she sat on the couch with me while were reading and asked me in her quite animated way, "Mommy, are you sad because you have a REALLY REALLY BIIIIIG OWIE!?"
I love her so much, she never ceases to make me laugh.
Having never had a cut quite like this, I didn't know I was supposed to go to ER right away. When I saw Doctor Spice* the next morning he questioned why I didn't come in when it happened. He said I could have used stitches but they can't put them in after 12 hours since the body has already started healing. I had no idea. Now I do.
He did say that Jimmy did such a great job bandaging me the night before that it's most likely my new scar will be hardly noticable at all. Jimmy used to work in the medical field. I am endlessly counting the ways I am blessed by having him in my life and after fourteen years he still amazes me with his survival skills.
Someone said I deserved a Mother of the Year Award for not going to the ER when it happened because I had my two little ones to take care of. I could not disagree more. What I deserve is a Dumb as F&@% Award for not taking care of myself when it happened. I want to model for my children that they need to get help in an emergency and not just brush it off like it's no big deal which is what I did that day. Which is what I have done for years in fact. No awards here... just a bit of swelling, some arnica and a few ice packs.
I've been making fun of myself in these past days since it's happened. Making light of the whole situation has been easy and helps me keep it all in perspective, but the truth is I've also been in a bit of a funk since it's happened and I'm not sure why. I suppose any kind of trauma is bound to do that; seeing blood and being in pain is certainly unsettling.
The experience was so jarring and unexpected that parts of me are feeling quite tender and emotional surrounding it though I am not quite sure what I am so funked up about. I can't say for sure, but I don't think it has much to do with the physical part; I have a small collection of scars already and think our battle wounds can be quite sexy. But I do wonder if the metaphorical part of being an open wound has something to do with it. Sort of a post-injury depression as it were. I just don't know right now.
I am wondering if any of you have similar stories and how you were able to deal with the strange feelings, if any, that crept up for you afterwards. If you do please share, I would really like to know your story.
* I call him Dr. Spice because something about him reminds me of the guy from the Old Spice commercials. When he speaks to me I am often just waiting for him to end his thought with "I'm on a horse".