As we are winding our way down on 2007 we thought maybe we should
visit the emergency room one more time. Just for fun.
So yesterday afternoon, just as I was pulling the 14th load of
laundry of the day out of the dryer, Will and Addie obliged.
Yes, they did.
They were playing a game of snap-the-sticky-wierd-gumball-machine toy
towards each other and Addie let fly with said sticky toy,
whereas it popped Will in the eyeball.
(Maybe Will's crazy eyeball dream was a premonition
about his own upcoming eyeball trauma.)
A blood curdling scream went up. Towels went flying.
Will couldn't open his eye and was rubbing it violently.
Addison was looking at Will like, "What's the big deal?
Why don't you man up and take the pain?"
And so the rest of the late afternoon was spent talking to the nurse,
dropping Addison off at with Scott at his afternoon job
and lounging in the emergency room. For goodness sakes.
After we got to the emergency room, Will bucked up considerably,
claiming he could see, could we go home now?
Of course, we couldn't. There were more adventures to be had.
They put us in a room and the doctor came into examine Will.
He was a young doctor, laid back, chatting up Will.
But as he proceeded to stick a little paper tag into Will's eye,
laced with fluorescent dye, to see if there were any cuts on the eye,
Will went nuts. Screeching and flailing.
I had Will in a full body hold, clutching his head and legs.
Will was screaming so loudly he scared the people who were there
with actual life threatening injuries.
He then proceeded to kick the doctor in the privates.
To which I said,"Oh, I'm so sorry," grabbing uselessy at the Will's legs
and at which time the nice young doctor,
ceased chatting and said very tersely,
"Let me look at that eye, Will."
It all gets very dicey when people's nether regions are involved.
Which is understandable, since just before the doctor had been offering
popsicles and calming banter, and then was so violently rebuffed.
And so the eye was examined, order was restored and Will's eye
WAS JUST FINE. Of course, it was. It was bruised but not cut.
And fine upstanding doctor that he was, he still brought Will a popsicle.
Now that is following the hippocratic oath, people.
Putting the care of others before yourself in the practice of good medicine.
And I got to pay $100 for a red popsicle.
I believe last time we went to the emergency room for
Will's-is-it-a-concussion-no-it's-a-black-eye,
I paid $100 for a sticker.
Looks like we are moving up in the world, tsgs.
Merry Christmas to us!
4 comments:
I laughed out loud at the part when the doctor got kicked in the privates...it was worth the $100-
Love you guys!
Last spring I took my husband to the ER for abdominal pain. The bill was $7,000.00 and all he got was an enema. I'd say a $100.00 popsicle was getting off cheap...
And as a bonus, you have a priceless story to tell!
Oh, the joy of having to wrestle a child to the gurney. Where does that superhuman strength come from, anyway!?! Tanner had to have drops put in and he, too, did the flailing and screaming bloody murder. Sheesh...They're just eyedrops! I have little plastic orbs that go on my eyes every day...do you see ME screaming and crying!? NOOOoooooo. ROTFLMBO for this one, Sue. Thanks.
p.s. please tell me he at least got an eye patch for his trouble? They love those.
That's so over-the-top funny, Susanna. But Will still has his eye and the ER doctor still has all his ... gear, right? So all's well that ends well.
Merry Christmas!
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