The Infirmary

It was 12:13 p.m. and my cel phone was ringing with Shelby's preschool number. I had just returned from a stroller free run and was sitting down to lunch in the backyard with John (still home from surgery). She doesn't get out until 2:30-something's wrong.
"Hi, this is Teacher Kim at the preschool, how are you?---Uh, huh, yes, I'm fine, thank you. Yes well, Shelby is fine, we're here with her now.
(Okay, cut the crap and get to the point already!)
She just fell down on the playground and bumped her head and there's a cut. Well, actually it's pretty big..."
OH SH&@$!
She's bleeding???? They had to change her clothes??? She doesn't need stitches????
I jumped in the car before I had hung up the phone. Why do these things always happen when I have something interesting going on at home? I never get a call from school the day I have a gynecology apppointment! Last time they called, Shelby had puked all over the rug at circle time and I was out to lunch with an old friend who was passing through town. CUT SCENE!
I pulled into the parking lot and caught a glimpse of Shelby on the bench outside with the teacher. Okay, she's breathing, she's clean (What is she wearing??? There was no doubt a fashion accident, stripes and floral print? Who dressed her, Ray Charles?), she's walking toward the gates. Phew, she's okay. We gathered her things after a long, and much needed, mommy hug and loaded up in the car to head home. She's fine, I told myself, she's just a little dramatic. No harm, no foul, it's probably a little scratch. Head wounds always bleed profusely.
Not until we got out of the car and I followed her towards the front door did I notice the locks of blood crusted hair. I saw blood drips down the back of her skirt. I felt nausious at the thought of my baby in pain. I forced myself to inspect her head further and saw the half inch gash across the back of her head. We arrived home to John resting on the sofa and found a comfy spot for Shelby to join him. I donned my best nurse attire, pinned on my stiff white cap and picked up a tray of medication. My name is Mommy. I'll be your nurse this evening.

1 comment:

JO said...

Oh NO!! I hope she is okay. Poor little thing.