Yesterday was a high adrenaline day filled with hours of waiting. Not really a great combination in my opinion. But I guess that any day spent in the emergency room is not really a great day anyway.
Mr. Not Hideous had only been at work for about an hour when I called.
Me: "Um, Hi. Goosey just bit her tongue."
Mr. Not Hideous: "Okaaaay. I'm coming. Bye."
Me: " Bye..."
I didn't see how it happend. I had my back turned for one second, it only takes one, that's what everyone says. I just heard a very lound thunk and wails coming from behind me. I assume that Goosey slipped and slammed her chin down on the 'ledge of doom' (as it shall now be called.) Luckily, she only has four teeth, two only the bottom and two on the top, if she had more she would have bitten her tongue right off. Instead its just a hole.
He must have heard the panic in my voice because he called back in about two minutes, asking all the right questions.
Mr. NH: "Is there a lot of blood?"
Me: "No, not really."
Mr. NH: "Is there a big hole?"
Me: "I'm not sure."
Mr. NH: "Are you okay?"
Me: "I'm kinda freaking out right now..."
Mr. NH: "Okay, take a cleansing breath. Just relax, everything will be fine. If you need some help before I get home go downstairs to the chiropractic office. And if there is too much blood for us to handle, call the paramedics."
Me: "Yeah. We can handle it, it's not too much blood."
Mr. NH: "I'll be home soon."
I have worked at summer camps and in the ballroom at IKEA and have seen blood and injured children; I've kept my cool through all those situations, but something about this being MY baby sent me very close to loosing my cool. The only time that I have lost my cool in an emergency situation was when the emergency was happening to me, I just can't seem to think straight when I'm the patient. My judgement becomes impaired, and I need someone to tell me what to do; don't give me options, just say what needs to be done. I could tell that I was close to getting to that situation, so I took charge. I started telling myself what to do, talking to myself and really focusing on what would help the situation.
And so I waited for him to come home while holding my 10-month old baby girl, giving her cold cloths and her ice lobster to suck on to try to stop the bleeding. Mr. NH called about every eight minutes, just to make sure we were doing okay and to tell me things he learned in his EMT training.
Once he got home and assessed the situation, we decided it was going to be a trip to the emergency room. I made a bag of cold wet cloths for the car and made myself eat a granola bar while Mr. NH went downstairs to see if they had any ice cubes. No such luck. Of course they have ice packs, being a chiropractic office, but no ice in cubes.
Mr. NH jumped in the driver seat, and Goosey and I got in the back. Usually the car seat is a big struggle, but luckily she absolutely loves to suck on wet cloths so it sped up the process quite a bit.
We checked in at the ER and sat down to wait. I think we were in the ER waiting room for about an hour before we got to see a nurse. If I had been thinking properly before we left I would have packed a ER bag for Goosey, but nope, all we had for her was one penguin to play with. That lost its appeal in about half an hour. I'm going to mark that one down as a rookie mistake.
While we were waiting a man burst out of the ER door and made a bee line for the exit. He had about four doctors and nurses following him, trying to get him back inside. Unfortunately for him there were three squad cars parked right outside the entrance to the ER, with all the officers waiting around. He didn't make it very far before the officers were ushering him back in while all wearing their weighted gloves and hold tasers. Seriously. That did nothing for my nerves.
Apart from being bored and really wanting to walk around, Goosey was pretty much fine for the entire wait. But when we saw the nurse and we had to get her mouth open to show off her tongue, that's when there were lots of tears. We had to lay her on her back, a position that Goosey hates more than any other, and use a 'tongue knife' as the nurse called it to pry her mouth open. (Really, nurse, calling it a tongue knife does not make my nerves settle one bit! Since when do they call it that, why can't you say tongue depressor?)
The nurse sent us on our way to the same day clinic. Before we left we got her to give up a cup of crushed ice for Goosey to suck on. She almost didn't give us any because she was concerned about choking while the doctor checked her out. (I mean really, nurse, do you think we would put ice in her mouth while the doctor was diagnosing her? And do you really think that the doctor wouldn't notice the ice in the mouth while looking at a tongue wound?)
So we waited again. As we waited the room around us filled up as more and more patients arrived. We apparently had good timing. While we were waiting on of the receptionists came around the room a few times to reassure everyone, let us know how long the wait would be, that we were next, and to get Goosey some more crushed ice. I would like to nominate that man for an angel award, seriously, he was the most pleasant, caring person.
After waiting for about two and a half hours to see a doctor we finally saw Dr. Patton for fifteen minutes. I think five of those minutes were filled with three adults trying to hold a little crying girl down to open her mouth enough to see the extent of the damage. That was when I made a mistake. I was holding her arms and being kicked in the chest, and I peeked. I looked right at her mouth as Mr. NH and Dr. Patton got it open. It was gross. I was able to still hold her down, but my whole body did a squeamish shiver dance. Gross.
Dr. Patton gave us our options, knock her out and give her stitches or give her antibiotics and let it heal on its own. We chose to let it heal, people pierce their tongues all the time, no problem. Really, I didn't expect the doctor to have any other options, and I think Mr. NH and I knew that we would opt for no stitches if possible, but we knew we had to take her in.
As of now, Goosey's tongue has closed up, which means she can nurse again. It was too painful for her last night so she got milk in a sippy cup, and we all got a nearly sleepless night.
And we finally bought ice cube trays.
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