like most people, i tend to think of myself as an intelligent, rational being.  i’ve been in the trenches, so to speak, in teaching for nine years and being a mother for two, so i feel like i can handle just about anything.  it’s when these feelings arise that life reminds me otherwise.

last week ella and i went for a walk with the dog.  as part of my new anti-stroller campaign, it was just the three of us:  ella, me, and fargo.  we had a leisurely stroll to the mailbox in store so no need to drag all our worldly possessions with us.  so we were off, down to the corner and three blocks over, our bright blue goal was in sight.

no longer tethered to her stroller, ella delighted in stopping at every sight:  a crack in the concrete, a flower on a bush, the alley way we crossed, and some backyard stairs that led to the sidewalk.  it was here she stopped to investigate the backyard steps and to stare and a woman getting into her car.  she put on her best, “i’m cute” smile and said “hi.”  getting the wave hi she was looking for, it was back to the steps.

i was busy calling fargo back from wandering when i saw ella coming down the steps and tripping on the last one, fall flat on her face on the sidewalk.  it was one of those slow motion moments where you know what’s going to happen but are helpless to stop it.

there were tears almost as much as there was blood.  lots and lots of blood.  and what looked like a perforated lower lip.  ewww.

and mostly i just stood there.  motionless.  clueless.

my internal dialogue was something like this:  “ummm, that sure is a lot of blood coming out of her mouth.  oh no, her new shirt tony bought her has blood all over it.  oh look, she’s still crying and is now looking at the blood on her hands.  hmmmmm.  what should i do now?”

that took about two minutes to process what was happening, why with all the blood and crying and whatnot.  of course i didn’t have my stroller with me, so i was without wipes or napkins or anything for that matter.  and i know this sounds horrible, but i didn’t want blood all over my favorite shirt.  i know, i know, boo hiss right back at ya.

so after what seemed like forever, but hopefully wasn’t, i picked her up (sideways to avoid the blood fountain as much as possible) then went running awkwardly back home a block away.  by that time ella had stopped crying and we managed to get inside the house with minimal cussing and yanking on the door.

when your kid’s bleeding, do you take them to the doctor or the e.r.?  i didn’t know either.  i tried calling the doctor’s office but got the phone maze; not really helpful at a time like that, so i hung up.  poor ella was sitting on top of a box of diaper’s with a kitchen towel on her mouth waiting for me to make it better, so i loaded her in the car and we were off.

should i go to the doctor’s office?  i tried calling, this time on my cell, and got an operator.  “who’s your doctor,” she asks.

“ahhhhh.  ummmmm.  this one guy.  his name begins with an ’s’?  shitttttttttttttt.  i don’t know.”  my brain had effectively shut down all thought, so my memory was a little shaky.
then it dawns on me, i’m calling my doctor’s office, not ella’s.  not very helpful at the moment, unfortunately.  so i call tony, spit out the news and bark at him to call the doctor and call me back, i’m on my way to the hospital.

by the time he calls back and okay’s the e.r., i’m already there cursing the clergy parking that’s available really close to the entrance and the other available spots not nearly as desirable.  oh well.

fortunately, ella’s stopped bleeding by this time and we’re in the waiting room where i’m wiping down my bloody child’s face and neck and my arm and leg (yes, i did get some on my beloved shirt).  we were seen immediately and 15 minutes and $150 of co-pay later we’re heading home with doctor’s orders to relieve the swelling with popsicles.

POPSICLES.

$150 for a prescription for popsicles.  and then i begin to understand why my parents never took me to the doctor.

but she’s okay, i’m okay, we’re all okay.  her lip is healed and i now have her doctor’s number in my cell phone and feel much more prepared for a minor medical emergency that may arise.

maybe.