So, it's 9:30 last night and I've just tucked myself into bed.
Vicodan swimming pleasantly in my belly.
Bren who is laying beside me suddenly says, "Mommy, you forgot to read me a book!"
So, I tell her to go downstairs and choose one and come right back with it and I'd read it to her.
About 10 minutes later I hear a big thud...but no screams. As old as this house is, noise just travels like crazy and what would normally be little bumps sometimes magnify themselves against this old wood. So, I didn't jump out of bed.
10 seconds later, Bren appeared in the doorway, bookless and crying.
Her hand was holding her chin, but I saw no blood, so I scooped her up and held her against me until she stopped crying.
I moved her hand to see what the damage was and that's when panic set in.
Blood was everywhere and the gash was pretty deep!
Madison was in my room by this time and I told her to go get the boys because we were making a trip to the ER. I was a little concerned over having just taken the vicodan, but I was certain that the adrenaline flowing through me would combat any drowsiness that threatened my ability to drive us there safely.
I grabbed the phone and called David to tell him what happened. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get to the ER, but said he's make an effort.
He walked in just minutes after we got there and we were seen 40 minutes later.
The nurse put some numbing medication on a cotton ball and taped it to Bren's chin so she could be comfortable during the stitches.
There was a TV in our room to keep Bren distracted but the only channel she wanted to watch was the "hospital information channel" which gave descriptions of the items in the room and how to use them along with important hospital information like visiting hours and cafeteria menus.....all backed by the corniest elevator music known to man!
Poor David was already going on just a few hours sleep from the night before and was barely hanging in there.
He refused to go back to the dorm though until he knew that Bren was OK.
Seemingly numb, the doctor began the stitches.
The first one was ok...she wimpered a bit, but not too bad.
The second one was a little more difficult as she began to know when she was being poked.
She still held still, but began to get more and more upset.
The doctor told her she would have four stitches.
Knowing she loved the number four since she was, in fact, four (and lets us know all the time), I mustered up all of my brilliant motherly distraction techniques and excitedly said,
"Wow! You get four stitches just like you are four!!"
The doctor tried to pick up on my excitement and said,
"Is that how old you are Bren?"
She looked right at him and said,
"No, I'm one!"
Now you can't help but chuckle over that!
She struggled through the next two stitches and definitely earned her brave girl prize of the DVD "Enchanted", which we'll pick up for her this week.
Here's my brave girl with her new badge of courage! A small line of four blue x's.
Knowing that she has four sets sitting here to model, one of the first things that Bren said after she got hurt was, "Now I can't do pictures!"
But, I told her that I have a magic wand in my computer and can take the stitches right off of her face in the picture!
She thought that was pretty cool!
And even with a stitched up chin...she's still a doll!
A spunky, tough little accident prone thing...but still a doll!
How is she feeling today?
Well, right now she's sitting on her bed, watching a DVD and twirling her hair with her fingers in her mouth. So calm, so serene....it's hard to believe that 15 minutes ago she was swinging a pool stick that she brought down from the upstairs game room like a samari sword all around the house and riding it like a horse! Madison finally chased her down and saved us all from Bren's imaginary battle!
She's fearless I tell ya! Stitched up and fearless!
Here's what I'm seeing right now. Two sisters cuddled up on Bren's bed in my dressing room watching a DVD.
It's almost time for American Idol, so I'm gonna have to run....
But before I go, here's the scene of the accident....not Bren's, mine.
Like Mother like daughter, huh?
Here's that stupid "step and a half " that I stepped off of onto that stupid slick wet floor and landed squarely on my stupid ankle which broke in three places causing my foot to hang like a dead fish off of my leg! Sorry for the visual.
And look....what do I see there at the very bottom of the photo?
Yup. that is definitely a rug!
Gee, that would have come in handy on New Years Eve!
"A rug, A rug, my kingdom for a rug!!!"
You didn't know I knew Shakespeare did ya?