Did My Day Get Easier??

No, but thanks to all who asked!

After the previous fun Ava and I had, I had settled back into studying my A&P. I hear Ava in the kitchen (that I usually keep gated off) so I walk in to the kitchen and check on her... She's playing with a doll in the floor. About that time the phone rings so I walk into the den.

I am about 6 steps away from Ava when I hear a glass sliding on the counter. I immediately turn to see what she is grabbing and see the liquid from the glass tip as she drags the glass from the counter. I continue walking towards Ava. She slips as the liquid sloshes onto the floor, the glass drops onto the tile, breaking into shards.

Ava slips and falls.

Her right wrist lands onto a piece of the shattered glass (which remained intact on the drinking vessel itself). I grab her up and look for blood.

I see no blood.

I walk to our couch, a mere 15 steps away, and set Ava down. All the while I have the plan to call 911 if I see copious amounts of blood. After seeing nothing much, I grab a clean towel, put pressure on the cut and wait.

A million things run through my mind from paramedics to stitches to her bleeding out and dying in front of me.

After a couple minutes- at the very least- I remove my compress and look. No blood. Shallow?

I take a few moments to collect myself and let Ava sit with her wrist propped against the towel. I clean up the glass, continuously checking to see if she'd moved, bled, fainted, died.

She was fine- Laughing at the TV actually.

After about 10 more minutes I put her on the counter of the sink and put peroxide on her cut. I could see how jagged it was... it looked a little deeper than I first thought.

Fast forward between me calling B for reassurance, me calling my dad for butterfly bandages, me calling Jef so hopefully he would just know what the hell to do!!!! and I could go from there.

I decided at this point that there were two options: Put a maxi-pad on the wound and let it heal or wrap it with something thinner and be able to check if there was a lot of blood loss.

I opted for a paper towel folded in fourths and some medical tape to hold it in place. I'm glad I went for this option, even though there was no further bleeding to speak of, but it allowed me the confidence to untape the wound and look at it...

Deep people. I was looking for the words to tell B what I saw, and I can think now that maybe adipose fat was what I was thinking. If I'm wrong with my definition, someone please tell me- but that is the only med term word I could think of at the time...

A little fatty blobby yellowish thingie- which I knew was FAT of some sort- was hanging out of the cut. Dad got home soon after I had called B for a second time (because B is the guru of all medical knowledge or she at least knows who IS the guru). Dad brought home some butterfly bandaids, and as I cleaned Ava's arm with peroxide and the wound bubbled and as the little fat blobs seemed evermore prominent, I knew that I HAD TO TAKE Ava to the doctor.

Long story short, I took Ava to the quick care clinic. She got 5 (maybe 6, I lost count) stitches in her right wrist. I realized I was in the absolute RIGHT line of work, because even though I was concerned for my daughter I was also intrigued with the inner-workings of her wound, the cleaning and stitching, and the Q&A of the doc on call at the clinic.

I also realized how lucky we had gotten... the little blue vein that would have caused a "major emergency" (per clinic doc) was only centimeters, nay millimeters, away. I only realized the depth, literally and figuratively, of Ava's wound once the doc pulled it open to examine and flush.

It was probably a 1/2 inch deep.

I felt like such a shitty mom. I still do. But things happen, right?

It doesn't make it any easier for me.

And, you ask, how is Miss Ava?

She's playing and laughing like nothing ever happened. She's happy as a lark.

She only got mad when the doc and 4 nurses held her down and made her be still (Well, she would call that PISSED in Ava-land).

Until 11pm she played, despite the meds to make her sleepy.

--The Milk Maid says she's glad Ava was a girl and not a boy, cause dude- can you imagine?!
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