That morning, I had only four children. Jack was 10, Anna was 8, Timmy was 6, and Matthew was 4. I was expecting Lily. It was about 8:45, and I was rushing to get people out the door. Jack was going to golf camp, Anna, Timmy, and Matthew were going to a vacation bible camp at St. Mark's. I think they were having fun. Then, I heard a pop--glass was broken. I was in the kitchen, and I walked to the front, and Timmy had just popped out the glass in this piece of furniture we call the "ugly maroon thing." His arm and hand went through the glass, and his arm was cut deep.
Instinctively, I threw a clean towel over it, not to apply pressure to it, like I should have, but because I didn't want him to see it. If Timmy saw it, he would flip out. I remember that this was the time, at least in our family, where we had big old cell phones, and mine was not charged--I really didn't use it all that much. I got it charged for about 3 minutes, as I rushed everyone out the door, and I had someone grab Timmy's shoes.
Within 6 minutes, I had dropped all those children off at their camps, as we were on the way to the pediatrician/hospital (this became an issue later....I did not delay his arrival at the pediatrician by dropping off those three, and most importantly, I was 6 months enormously pregnant with Lily, and I really needed to get rid of them before I could deal with Timmy.)
On the way up to the hospital, I decided I would stop by our pediatrician, which is located across the street, basically, from the hospital. I wasn't sure if he needed the ER, or maybe just to be seen by the pediatrician. But, I knew Timmy, so I kept him occupied, talking to him about other things. He just kept on asking me "Am I going to die?", which I acted like I thought was absurd, but I also was wondering if he was losing blood...the cut looked really deep to me. I kept on telling him to keep the towel on the cut, again, not because I was applying pressure, but because I didn't want him to see the cut.
When we got to the pediatrician, I carried him into the office, and just basically told them I needed to be seen immediately. I think it was a Friday morning, because it was pretty quiet. As soon as we got into a room, Dr. Higgins came in, looked at it, and said, yes, Timmy needed to go to the hospital, and that he would notify the hospital that he was on his way. In doing so, Dr. Higgins took off the towel, Timmy looked at it, and as soon as Dr. Higgins left, Timmy went over, in a heap, passed out cold.
I tried to revive him, but I did start to panic "is there any chance he has such blood loss, that he is bleeding out?" I think ER was popular at that point, and people were always bleeding out.
He was revived fairly quickly, and then I called Chris, told him to come meet us, because I simply couldn't carry Timmy anymore.
Once we got to the ER, they took Timmy right back, and what I remember is that they told him he could scream loudly when they gave him the novacaine so that the stitches wouldn't hurt, and that while he told me he didn't need to scream loudly, that he was told he could scream loudly, so he did.
Ten years later, that big scar is just a little scar....but it is still one of my favorite stories. Mostly, because as I stand here remembering this story now, I am struck by how this is when Timmy was just one of the crowd, and I don't remember spending all that much time with him alone, like we did in the ER that day.
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