Thursday, 1:00 pm:
The Boy slams the sliding glass door on Middle Girl's finger. It is bleeding and swelling. She is screaming. I wash it off and put a Band-Aid on it for the bleeding. The finger is sensitive and Middle is careful with it.
Friday, 12:50 pm:
The Hubby calls to tell me that his friend's wife, who has been battling cancer for years (with several periods of good health) is probably not going to survive the weekend.
Friday, 1:00 pm:
Middle Girl takes the Band-Aid off of her finger and we discover that her skin is WHITE where the Band-Aid was and PURPLE everywhere else. The nail is purple. The WHITE parts get me worried; I decide to consult a doctor and usher The Boy and a seriously freaking-out Middle Girl into the minivan. She does NOT want to see a doctor and is having a screaming, fighting fit about it.
Urgent Care goes as you would expect: wait, wait, wait, entertain The Boy, entertain The Boy, entertain The Boy, comfort Middle Girl, comfort Middle Girl, comfort Middle Girl. During the time it takes to drive there, the finger begins to pink up, and while waiting in the waiting room, the WHITENESS is pretty much gone. When we finally see the doctor, he says the nail bed does not need to be drained (Hurrah!), and he wants to take an x-ray to make sure the finger is not broken. Having the x-ray done adds quite a bit of time to our stay -- good thing I have arranged for someone to pick up Big Girl from school. But the finger is not broken and Mommy feels better having had it checked out!
It's amazing how quickly my mind imagined Worst-Case Scenarios. While getting everyone out the door and driving over to Urgent Care, I was so worried about the WHITENESS of the skin, and was blaming myself for not taking her in yesterday but instead putting a Band-Aid on it and then leaving that damn Band-Aid on for 24 hours. She wouldn't let me take it off, yes, but I knew better. It was so WHITE that I was concerned about how long it had gone without blood flow, and whether there had been cell death, and my mind even went all the way to perhaps losing it past the knuckle (my aunt's finger is missing the last section).
Do you think my overreaction has something to do with Hubby's phone call coming only minutes before? Probably, but I think it's more of a mommy thing. We do tend to worry about our children! and worry that we are doing a good enough job taking care of them.