I suppose, this should really be titled crazy week.. as once we settled our virus-y selves in after our doctor's appointment, the next day proved to be even more ridicuous.
Fast forward to noon. I am um, let's say indisposed- collecting some milk for the next day before I eat lunch. The teacher I am working with knocks on the door and says my husband is one the phone, and he says there's and emergency. Immediately my mommy instincts kick in and I somehow (barely) collect everything including myself, enough to be able to appropriately go answer the phone.
Of course- the "Don't panic, but.." disclaimer is the first thing I hear. Well, come on-been there, doing that! Mike explained that the Booger somehow cut two of his fingers, and Granny (not sure why this is her choice of grandma terms as she is not a toothless hillbilly... but we go with it! :-) ) can't get them to stop bleeding.
Ok- so a little less panicky, only my hands are shaking now- I was expecting seizure, high fever, vomiting, something tied into the rash.
Then he says- I called and ambulance and I'm on my way.
Woah-ambulance? Commence whole body tremors and 500 mile a minute thoughts.
The amazing teacher I work with immediately told me I could go, so in 1.29 seconds I had my things and was sprinting out the door for the 20 minute drive home. The whole time I swore every single obnoxious driver and red light were in my way and 45 was not an acceptable speed limit.
About three minutes from home, Mike sent me a message that he was ok. So I was able to reign myself in and only go 5 miles over the speed limit.
Turns out he touched the coils on the back of the air conditioner, and it cut him-five or six little, deep paper cut type cuts. How did he touch the back of the air conditioner you ask? Because his parents suck and left it two feet from his play area. Can you say guilty?
The ambulance had come and gone by the time I got home, and they were apparently very nice and helpful. Didn't treat them like crazy people for calling them to come put a band aid on a baby. Yep- all that for a band-aid. I imagine the most expensive band-aid you've ever seen. But we won't think about that now.
Once I got home and saw my sweet boy all safe and sound, gulping down his lunch, I had to high tail it back to school because I was supposed to be getting observed teaching a lesson right at the time I walked into our house. (While you're interning someone from the university program visits throughout the semester and observes you teach, then you are graded on your teaching, etc. etc.)
So- drive 20 minutes back, run in, and jump into leading a social group. There for less than an hour, and I had to leave because I had an appointment to get fingerprinted and sign my teaching contract. Which- while that was super wonderful and a relief to get it on paper- I felt like I was running like a chicken with my head cut off!
All in all, we've come through our first emergency with an incredible response time, and a very effective communication system. And a big dose of guilt! Anyone else kick themselves for something that happened to your kids because of something you did or didn't do?
Tomorrow's post will have pictures of a new milestone! Any guesses?