Temporary? Insanity

Apologies for the recent lapse in posting. I had intended to post more regularly, but it’s amazing how life throws us curve balls, isn’t it? I’ve actually had a great deal more time on my hands than usual lately, but I haven’t had the energy or motivation to put it to good use.

Anyway, here’s the story.

Sunday afternoon was a lovely relaxing time for our family. As Emma and Becca played happily in Emma’s room, I snuggled up on the couch with a good book while Neil puttered around restlessly (relaxing doesn’t come naturally to him). We heard Emma’s door slam (for about the hundredth time that day – we’ve been fighting that battle for weeks now and Emma is a champion door stop remover), and the usual cry from Becca as she got bonked by the closing door.

But it wasn’t a bonk and the cry didn’t subside. And there was blood everywhere. In a panic I wrapped her pinkie finger in gauze while Neil held her, sobbing as I noticed how much of it was missing. Emma was oblivious to the seriousness of the situation, trying to peer up at Becca repeating, “Begg-ah, Owie…Finger…”

Neil rushed her to the hospital while I stayed home with Emma. Emma consoled me with lots of hugs and good advice, “Ooooh, sad? A Happy!” I called my good friend Angela who immediately took off for the hospital. She was invaluable, helping to keep Becca calm as Neil held her for exrays and various other procedures.

They sewed the tip back on, taped up her hand, and said to see the surgeon on Thursday to see if it were healing properly. I feel like we’re playing at some horrible gamble. Fifty-fifty odds. Red or Black?

I don’t feel like talking about all that’s gone through my mind the past few days. But I do want to share how astounded I am by our little angel. If it weren’t for the sock on her hand and the extra nap she’s been taking every day, you wouldn’t guess that there’s anything wrong. She’s her usual happy and busy self. She isn’t pulling at the sock in frustration, but rather seems to accept that she now only has one fully functioning hand.

Neil and I, on the other hand (that sounds like a bad pun, doesn’t it?), have been absolute wrecks. Neil more so. It was Neil who had to hold her still at the hospital, forced to watch as her finger was examined, x-rayed, numbed and stitched. The memory of that experience seems to haunt him. The kind concern of friends and family can be like torture to him, as he’s forced to relive the experience. For me, who saw the finger for a grand total of fifteen seconds, it isn’t as intense. It may well be after the doctor’s appointment tomorrow.

I’m forced to think about how lucky we are. The pinkie of her left hand. How much worse it could have been. How much more horrible are the experiences that other parents have to live through. Watching their children suffer from injuries much more grave, or from painful and or terminal diseases. It’s amazing what people cope with, simply because they have no choice. We have to be strong for our children, because otherwise, who will be?

And looking at the sweet face of our little Becca, who accepts the circumstances of her life with such a cheerful easygoing spirit, I think I have an example to learn from.