Why I Hate Tuesdays. . .

and am not terribly thrilled about Wednesdays.

Two weeks and one hour after Simon's unexpected descent down the longest staircase in our house which resulted in a procedure the following morning (Wednesday) to remove his two bottom front teeth, a crystal picture frame fell from the cabinet (tall wardrobe style) where the living room toys sleep when no one is playing with them. It met its demise when it collided with Abigail's head and broke.

As the pieces of the frame cascaded to the ground, one sliced the back of Abigail's right hand. A nasty, scary gash that sent me in a scooping-up-the-hurt-girl-trying-to-hold-a-cloth-over-the-wound run to the neighbor's house for a Simon-sitter.  Abigail and I were off to MedExpress for stitches. Upon arriving at the urgent care facility, I was informed that her head hurt and that her foot had a cut. Neither was serious. I can say that a terrified, crying four-year old girl covered in blood gets moved to a room quickly even if she isn't seen too far out of arrival order. But that is for another post.

The doctor was suspicious of the gaping wound and asked Abigail to do finger exercises. His suspicions were confirmed when she couldn't raise her middle finger. This was not an easy injury. This was an injury that required being sent to a hospital with a hand specialist. And orders to not eat for the possibility of sedation was great.

We were off to Morgantown--Ruby Memorial Hospital--where we were seen by doctors and residents and students and nurses and x-ray technicians. And after six hours, we were sent home with three stitches, a splint, and orders to return to see the hand specialist in clinic today (Wednesday). We ate dinner at 7:00 PM. We had eaten breakfast at 9:00 AM. We had nothing to eat or drink between the hours.

Bright and early this morning we were off. By 11 it was determined that Abigail's middle flexor tendon was severed and surgery was needed to correct it. We left the clinic with orders to see the anesthesiologist before leaving Morgantown and a Friday morning surgery date. We visited the pre-admissions unit for instructions, weight, height, and temperature. Then we took my mom out for lunch because she came to care for Simon and came home.

Abigail can't sleep and I am blaming the prescription pain medicine and her little nerves. I can't sleep because of mommy-guilt and sleepless children.

There are so many little things that I think about through this, perhaps a list is in order another day. Tomorrow we are without doctor visits, it will be nice to think about something else. But if you think of us, please pray.

And before Tuesday writes me back, I should say that I probably don't hate Tuesday; I'm just tired of having Tuesday catastrophes. And in case Wednesday is insulted, it (what gender are the days of the week) should know that follow-ups to Tuesday catastrophes are no fun.