A Mini Emergency. Well, kind of…

If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you’ll have seen this image:

And now, for the story behind it.

Lunch was an unusually messy one with Jill smearing its contents into her hair, where it dried into a stiff mess that a washcloth couldn’t get out.

So, I peeled the sticky clothes off my girls and got them into the shower.

We always shower our kids.  As soon as they are able to sit up, bathtime is over in our house.  So none of this is unusual.

Except for when I turned off the water and Lucy says to me “It’s STUCK.  STUCK.”

(I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned it on my blog, but “stuck” was somehow Lucy’s third word.  It went mama, dada, stuck.  Weirdest thing ever.)

I noticed Jill had her fingers in the drain holes, but didn’t think much of it.

“Lucy, she’s not stuck.  You’re silly.  Come on Jilly.”

And I went to pick her up.

And….

Lucy ain’t no liar.

Okay, no big deal.  I grabbed shampoo and poured it over Jill’s hand.

Tried to jimmy her fingers loose.

Nothin’.  Not budging.  Not even a little bit.

“Stuck mama!  It’s stuck!”

Thanks Lu.  I know.

Panic started to set in.

I run downstairs to the garage and grab the drill so that I can at least get my shivering kid off the shower floor.

Henry comes out of his room by now “Mommy, what’s happening?”

“Stuck!  It’s STUCK!”

Why do I bother?  Lucy’s got it.

I wrap Jill up in a towel and take her to the kitchen and pour expensive olive oil all over her hand.

Nothin’.  Not budging.  Not even a little bit.

NOW I’m panicking.

Okay, let me explain this panic, because I am well aware that this isn’t a life and death situation:

Realize that I’m home alone with three kids.  Two of Jill’s fingers are 100%, truly, no doubt (cue Lucy) STUCK in this drain thingamabob.

In the meantime, her fingers are swelling.  A lot.  And beginning the chameleon change to purple.

Andy’s office is a 30 minute drive away.

I don’t know much of anyone in the town we live in.

I don’t know how long little fingers can have circulation cut off before they have to be removed from little hands, but I wasn’t exactly in a position to google it.

I do know that it appears that my only options are to either somehow get Lucy dressed (who’s been wandering around yelling “STUCK” in her birthday suit this whole time), load up all three, drive to the Emergency Room, and somehow keep everyone from playing with scalpels and biohazard bins while docs cut this thing off of Jill…

Or, to call 911 and have the paramedics cut it off of her at the house.

And all I could think was

“Seriously, I really don’t feel like maxing out my deductible today.  On something this silly.”

(I had literally just paid the last of Jill’s last ambulance ride like two days before.  No lie.)

Lightbulb!

One of the few people I know locally: the always trusty, always there for our little family in a pinch…Lynette!

“Lynette…please tell me Ron is home today…”

“Um, I’m not home right now, but let me call him.  Why?”

By God’s grace (and I know that sounds silly, but seriously it was *really* random that he was nearby), Ron happened to be not only IN TOWN, but also just down the street from my house…in his work truck.

Meaning he’d have everything he needed on him.

Two minutes later, RES (Ron Emergency Service) showed up on my door…with a set of big plier looking things in his hand.

Jill’s fingers were tiny sausages by now, swollen over the edges that would need cut off.  Metal, incidentally, that was now slippery from all the olive oil, shampoo, and vasoline I had poured all over it in my vain attempts at getting it off.

It was definately a two person job.  I was holding Jill’s fingers away, while Ron snipped and twisted and cut.

I thought for sure that he was going to cut her finger…which I was totally okay with…I mean, a bleeding finger that is still attached to a little hand I can do.  Collateral damage.  We’re good.

You would think Ron’s done this a million times. Easy peasy.

As I bid him adieu, I said “Thanks Ron!  You just saved me $4,000 today!!!”

And so, Jilly’s fingers stayed safely attached to her hands with only a little bit of bruising and chaffing.

Oh, and now might be a good time to point out that if you’ve been a longtime reader, you’ll know that Henry had a run in with the shower drain when he was a baby too.

Saturday, we got a new drain cover.

One that appendanges cannot (I don’t think) get STUCK in.

The end.

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jeannett

I'm a mom to four. A wife to one. I believe in story. I love telling you about mine and would love to hear yours. There's really no sense in wasting our suffering and not sharing in each other's joy. We're all in this together...even if it doesn't always feel like it.

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