My stint in the hospital this year was scheduled, of course, but Baby Girl ended up in the hospital with RSV before she hit three weeks old, and this week we ended up at the ER once again, because my poor boy broke his thumb. How, you ask? Well, we went bowling with the kids.
It didn’t go well.
My middle–the five-year-old–tried to hand her brother a bowling ball. As far as I can tell (my hubby was bowling and I was holding the baby and didn’t actually see it happen), he either tried to take it and fell or took it and fell with it. Either way, it SMASHED his thumb. The doctor at the Instacare said he’d never seen such a bad hand injury on a child and sent us up to Primary Children’s Hospital; everyone there made horrified sounds when they saw the x-rays. I took him to the Instacare myself–my hubby got the girlies down, since they had school the next morning–but when they sent me to Primary’s with the possibility of surgery hanging over us, I couldn’t face going alone. And THIS is where I am so grateful for the visiting teaching program, which is an organized way for women to look out for each other in my church. I have two women assigned to look out for me; one of them brought me dinner the day my parents left last month, and the other came to my house last night to stay with my sleeping children so my husband and I could take our poor boy into the ER. (We left at 10, and got home around 2:30, and all of our texts back and forth involved me feeling guilty and her being supportive and reassuring and telling me not to worry about it.) This is the gospel of Jesus Christ–people serving each other the way the Savior served those He knew when He walked the earth.
I can’t think of a more eloquent way to say it than that.
(My visiting teacher partner and I have four women we look out for, by the way. I tended for one of them today while she went to the doctor’s. It’s a circle of service, and it makes me cry.)
The good news for the boy is–no surgery. The bad news is that the top bone of his thumb is in pieces, and the middle one is fractured (and I’m an English major and WAY too tired to look up the official names for things I didn’t have anything to do with in college), and he has a splint that is supposed to stay clean and dry.
Anyway. Last night the boy threw up in his bed–presumably a combination of pain, medication, and coughing–and he was awake in the ER the night before from about 10 to 1. (At least.) Which is why I am praying fervently that he will sleep soundly tonight. For a VERY LONG TIME. (At this point I can’t tell if it’s the pain or the tired that’s making him so grouchy, but OH. MY. GOSH.) I am also praying that he will heal quickly and completely. Either way, I know my Heavenly Father is listening.
I felt His love through someone else this week.