Drama Queen

In my head, I am a very cool, calm, and collected mother who, above all else, is IN CONTROL. I didn't realize how much this image means to me until last night, when I completely lost all that could be considered calm and FREAKED OUT.

I was in our bathroom running the girls' bath. Macy was outside screaming because she wanted to come in and couldn't because the floor is stripped of carpet and covered in mildew. (Whoever thought it was a good idea to carpet a room which has the sole purpose of being wet was a little stupid, if you want my honest opinion. But I digress.) Cerys was standing in the doorway blocking Macy's way. The screaming didn't change pitch, but I heard Cerys' little voice saying "I'm sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to." I looked down to see Macy's mangled pinky finger, which had just escaped from being trapped in the hinge side of a closing bathroom door. I have never seen anything so disgusting. The tip of her pinky finger was mangled. Almost completely flat in two different locations, and bent to one side. I was sure it was going to fall off. I just started screaming. Not yelling, just hysterically screaming. I'm not sure where the cool, calm, collected mother went, or perhaps she is just a fantasy, but a hysterical, irrational, foolish mother stepped in and called the ambulance. An ambulance!! For a finger! I just didn't know what else to do. I had two other crying children on my hands, no husband, no neighbors at home, a car, but no wits about me with which to operate a vehicle. And so I called 999, emergency services, and ordered up an ambulance. I then called my husband and screamed "GET HOME NOW". Then I called my friend Peggie, and did the same thing to her. The paramedic arrived to one screaming baby, two crying children, a chagrined, sobbing mother, and a pinky that had miraculously reformed into a rather normal looking finger, except for a bit of under-surface blood and swelling.

They decided to take us in anyway, for x-rays, and so we strapped her carseat onto the gurney, as she screamed, and Peggie stayed with the girls until Tim arrived. About 10 minutes into the ride, the Children's Nurofen and perhaps some adrenaline kicked in, and Macy happily flirted with the paramedic until we got to the hospital. For the next two hours I sat and paced, and held Macy who couldn't have been happier to have alone-time with her mommy in a fun waiting area filled with germ-infested toys. When the results of the x-ray came back completely clear, I was equally relieved and annoyed, really glad that Macy was okay, but also thinking that I had once again wasted several hours of my life in the emergency room waiting area for nothing.

I pray there won't be a next time, but if there is, I'm going to do my best to remember that fingers trapped in doors bounce back, and if I can survive the initial horror perhaps I can play Dr. Mom at home instead.