This is Going to Hurt Me (Mentally) More Than It Hurts You;
or, Ephraim's first injury.
Ephraim and I went to the Tennessee Aquarium a couple of Wednesday's ago, and it was really great, for most of the day at least. We arrived early and, along with Ephraim's Granny, were included on the
morning media cruise of the Aquarium's new attraction, the Tennessee River Gorge Explorer (Here's my article on the cruise.) Ephraim had a great time and was the life of the cruise, charming his way into the wheelhouse, onto the Captain's lap, and allowed to drive the boat. Yep, my son was piloting a multi-million dollar high-speed watercraft. Much better than the $500 kayak I used to bounce (literally) down the Ocoee River. The cruise was a blast and Ephraim really enjoyed himself.
After the cruise we went to the Aquarium, where Ephraim got to pet a stingray, see lots of exciting fish and other animals, and even pet a snake. It was all fun and games until we stopped for a potty break, at which time Ephraim hurt his pinkie finger when he slammed it in the bathroom stall door. It was a bad, bloody injury and I knew as soon as I saw it that stitches were called for.
So we went to the Chattanooga Children's Hospital (Erlanger) to have it taken care of. You have to realize that the thought of Ephraim, who for a long time refused to allow us to cut his hair (thank you Great Clips and your staff of rough-handed, cigarette-smelling, “stylists”!) getting stitches without being not knocked out was causing a great deal of anxiety to say the least. Ephraim was napping for most of the wait, and when not, indulging in the treat that is watching television. I, on the other hand, was developing what I was sure was a Prevacid-proof anxiety ache. They ended up giving Ephraim a “mind-eraser”, making him loopy and forgetful of the experience – if only they gave Dad's doses too! So they started, numbed the tip of the pinkie, cleaning it, squeezing out the swelling, and finally stitching. Ephraim started crying, not, it turned out, because of pain, but because of discomfort, meaning that the whole process interfered with television viewing. He didn't feel a thing. Lucky him.
When it was all over I was really relieved. I knew he was okay, starting to mend, and no worse for the experience. It was like a huge weight being lifted off my shoulders. Of course, it wasn't much fun getting whacked constantly by the gi-normous mitt they wrapped his entire hand in. That's right, a whole hand bandage for two stitches on the tip of the small finger. Go figure.
or, Ephraim's first injury.
Ephraim and I went to the Tennessee Aquarium a couple of Wednesday's ago, and it was really great, for most of the day at least. We arrived early and, along with Ephraim's Granny, were included on the
morning media cruise of the Aquarium's new attraction, the Tennessee River Gorge Explorer (Here's my article on the cruise.) Ephraim had a great time and was the life of the cruise, charming his way into the wheelhouse, onto the Captain's lap, and allowed to drive the boat. Yep, my son was piloting a multi-million dollar high-speed watercraft. Much better than the $500 kayak I used to bounce (literally) down the Ocoee River. The cruise was a blast and Ephraim really enjoyed himself.After the cruise we went to the Aquarium, where Ephraim got to pet a stingray, see lots of exciting fish and other animals, and even pet a snake. It was all fun and games until we stopped for a potty break, at which time Ephraim hurt his pinkie finger when he slammed it in the bathroom stall door. It was a bad, bloody injury and I knew as soon as I saw it that stitches were called for.
So we went to the Chattanooga Children's Hospital (Erlanger) to have it taken care of. You have to realize that the thought of Ephraim, who for a long time refused to allow us to cut his hair (thank you Great Clips and your staff of rough-handed, cigarette-smelling, “stylists”!) getting stitches without being not knocked out was causing a great deal of anxiety to say the least. Ephraim was napping for most of the wait, and when not, indulging in the treat that is watching television. I, on the other hand, was developing what I was sure was a Prevacid-proof anxiety ache. They ended up giving Ephraim a “mind-eraser”, making him loopy and forgetful of the experience – if only they gave Dad's doses too! So they started, numbed the tip of the pinkie, cleaning it, squeezing out the swelling, and finally stitching. Ephraim started crying, not, it turned out, because of pain, but because of discomfort, meaning that the whole process interfered with television viewing. He didn't feel a thing. Lucky him.
When it was all over I was really relieved. I knew he was okay, starting to mend, and no worse for the experience. It was like a huge weight being lifted off my shoulders. Of course, it wasn't much fun getting whacked constantly by the gi-normous mitt they wrapped his entire hand in. That's right, a whole hand bandage for two stitches on the tip of the small finger. Go figure.
No comments:
Post a Comment