Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Joci Got Stitches

The first time I had stitches was when I was 18 and had surgery.

To this day, I've never had an injury that required stitches.

Joci made it to 28 months.

Yesterday, I was in my supervisor's office about 20 feet away from my cubicle. I heard my office phone ring, then my cell phone, then both my phones again, then a text message.

I finished my conversation and checked my missed calls. Daycare. Something was wrong. Before, they usually call if she has developed a fever or something. I knew this was different because of the quantity of calls. I was listening to the voice mail from them when a text from my husband came through.

Joci emergency. Call me.

I grabbed my stuff and walked across the parking lot. I love being within one minute's walking distance of her. It's one of the things that puts my mind at ease about her being in daycare.

She had toddled into a low hung mirror on the wall. This mirror has a thick, wooden, rounded frame. You wouldn't think it would cause any damage, but she hit her brow bone on it just right that her skin popped open. And in true Joci form, she didn't cry at all.

Not sure if the cut was big enough to need attention, I took her to the emergency clinic just in case. I was sure I was just being silly, but the PA on duty said that although it was a shallow cut, it was wide enough that it would scar without intervention. It would be a good situation for glue, but young kids often pick the glue off, which will make the cut scar worse. So stitches it was.

A nurse gave me a piece of gauze with some goo on it - topical numbing anesthesia. They normally tape it onto the area to be numbed and leave it for 15 minutes, but the nurse didn't want to tape it to Joci because her cut was so close to her eye. So Mom got the fun job of holding the gauze on Joci's cut for 15 minutes. This was the worst part.

The PA planned on two stitches. He wasn't going to inject anesthesia because it would just be one more poke, and he could get two stitches with about the same amount of drama.

Joci laid on the table. A nurse held her head. I held her hands/torso. The PA draped a thick piece of paper with a hole in it over her face and began stitching.

Joci didn't cry. She didn't wiggle. She did awesome. The PA was so impressed with her disposition, he was able to get a third stitch in, which will be way better for healing. I could tell Joci was a little bored, but she did great. She was thrilled to get a purple Dum-Dum sucker.

I was ready to baby her, but she wouldn't have it. She was happy to have her cousins come over (I watched them for a few hours) and just play like normal.

I am glad she is so unfazed by the whole thing, but I still feel so bad that I couldn't protect her from this. Parental guilt is strong and constant. At moments like this, though, I think about Dori and Marlin from Finding Nemo.

Marlin: I promised that nothing would ever happen to him.

Dori: That's a funny thing to promise. If nothing ever happens to him, then nothing will ever happen to him.

Things happen. Good and bad. And I wouldn't ever want nothing to happen to my Joci. Talk about getting bored!


Beckie said...

OOh that is soo sad- but what a trooper!!! Sweet girl!

Que and Brittany's Adoption Journal said...

What a brave girl!!

Jennie Smith said...

She is such a tough little lady!

Rachel said...

Whenever Liam starts crying because Soren brushed against him (or vice versa) I think of your stoic little girl and contemplate ways I could trick you into a trade.


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