A proponent of matronly wisdom and a combatant of hooligans and foolishness. Offering an eclectic collection of illustrated commentary and finding the humor in politics, religion, academics and other social constructs.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Ruptured
One day, I was sitting on the bed letting my 3 year old comb my hair with a rat tail comb. All of the sudden she sticks the sharp end in my ear and pushes. Blood starts running out of my ear. I rush her over to the neighbors and drive myself to Tripler Army Medical Hospital one army base away.
As a side note, Tripler is a huge complex on the Moanalua ridge. The engineers wanted to avoid an “institutional atmosphere” so they chose a pink stucco finish. At least you can’t miss it.
This happens to be the one day that my then-husband was taking a board exam and can’t meet me at the ER. So I started the ubiquitous ER game of wait and wait and then wait some more.
So I sit and wait and try not to freak out too much. Many hours later, I was told just to live with it and that it probably would heal. Great! I could have had the patient care plan of “do nothing” from home. For a long time, I could pinch my nose and feel a little rush of air out of the hole in my ear.
Lesson learned! No sharp, poking object for kids because the eye they poke-out just might be yours!
Labels:
Momhood
,
Some People’s Kids
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