First E.R. Visit

I say first because I fully anticipate being back in the ER with this particular child in the future. For the past few weeks I have been saying that it is only a matter of time before the real injuries start. Ty has changed the dynamic in our household. These boys are getting more adventurous in general. But Ty, he is just something else. No fear. Not enough inhibition. Poor awareness of danger. And the "I can do anything" mindset that we LOVE, but may soon learn to hate a little too.

What happened you ask? This was a simple matter of Dad-said-no-and-I-did-it-anyway.

The girls had all gone with Nana to a women's broadcast. The boys headed out to Home Depot. Dad was pushing a large flat-bed cart and all three boys were sitting together on the cart giggling and playing. As all boys do, they wanted to try putting their hands down on the cement floor (dirt and boys are like attracting magnets). Dad first told Jacob no. Then Dad told Ty no with the added, "I just told Jacob no." Ty replied with, "Oh, sorry." Yet 60 seconds later, that hand went back down when Dad wasn't looking, and off went the tip of Ty's ring finger.

I got the call and met them at the ER. As we drove up Brad and the boys were walking in. Ty was noticeably unhappy but not crying the way I would expect him to. Once he saw that I was there, Ty seemed glad to see me. He let his pain show like a little boy in his mama's arms should.

They took us back immediately. After a shot of Novocaine (not pleasant!) Ty started to perk up and feel pretty good. Once the numbness took effect I showed him how to push the buttons on the reclining chair. From then on it was almost all fun and games.

Dad brought us Jamba Juice and smiles and giggles returned to the room.

Ty got a kick out of taking silly pictures of me.

Sewing everything back on was a little rough. But only until he allowed me to put him in my lap and distract him from staring at the doctor moving everything around. Once I held him and redirected his gaze he relaxed and just "chilled" through the rest of the procedure.

We have all learned a lot from this experience. One of the huge bonuses to pain and anguish is bonding. That may sound odd, but it is pretty much at the top of the "bright side" list. Pain opens up the opportunity for trust and comfort. Not only the injury itself but the consequences of using one hand: help dressing, help bathing, help for pain medication and antibiotics. Ty is forced (without us doing the forcing) to rely on us for more than he normally would.

Ty did not want anyone to know about this injury. He did not want to go to church today. He walked with his injured hand behind his back. He will not let me take pictures of him if his hand is in the frame. He asked if he could stay home from school.

He didn't want me taking pictures of him that showed his hand. He asked to delete this one, but I convinced him it was okay.

Could this be a realization that he made a mistake; some kind of embarrassment over not listening and having such a huge natural consequence? Possibly, but not likely. Ty comes from a culture that does not accept differences. Having your hand bandaged up is like a neon sign. We wonder what his real motivation is for hiding his injury. But he seems to be relaxing about it and understanding my explanations of why it is okay.

In the end, his finger will heal just fine. But it was one heck of a lesson on "dad-knows-what-he's-talking-about."