Wednesday, March 2, 2011

It All Started With A Vacuum

I love to vacuum.  It relaxes me- the rhythm, the cadence of moving back and forth with the whirring of a machine which envelopes all of our daily dirt with one fell swoop.  For others I know with ADD, this is quite common- the love for this particular chore- most likely because there is a clear beginning and end to the task and requires only that you plug in the vacuum and move.  There is no organization that needs to be done, which might then distract you into another tedious task, leaving you with hundreds of unfinished projects, and chaos. 

My precious vacuum suddenly stopped working three weeks ago, and I nearly fell into a very deep depression.  We are partial to Dysons and they are, well, not cheap.  And frankly, for this reason, my vacuum being out of commission is one of my worst nightmares.  I put up with sweeping my tile and hard wood floors, which I do anyway, before vacuuming, but the dirt and crumbs embedded in the carpet in our basement were about to bring on psychosis, so I called a friend and pleaded that she take me to Costco to get another Dyson- I was done.

I was lucky to find one remaining Dyson, a floor model, and carried it out of there with a huge sigh of relief.  On our way home, my friend's husband called to invite my family to dinner, so Tom packed up all the kids and met me at their house.  Ten minutes later, drama encircled me, as Liam stumbled into the kitchen, his face swallowed up by buckets of blood.....the boys had been playing in the basement, filming a "stunt movie" (this is where you say "uh, that sounds like a bad idea, Judy"), and a stunt went awry, puncturing a hole in Liams right cheek, right into his mouth.

My friend drove swiftly to the Children's Hospital Emergency Room, where we knew he needed to go, because of potential scarring, wanting a pediatric plastic surgeon to consult about his injury.  After about three hours in the waiting room, we were taken back where a doctor confirmed that his sutures would need a plastic surgeon, due to the severity of the wound. 

Surprising myself, since I am normally squeamish of gross medical procedures, I remained in the room for the surgery and got to watch, very closely, a lot of blood and guts and needles and more blood. The surgeon pulled out a salivary gland for inspection, then showed the exposed layer of muscle inside the cut.   I was almost daring myself to overcome this idea that I could never behold such a thing.  I also didn't want to leave my son, though I was given that option.  A hospital is frightening enough, choosing to leave him in a room that was cold and full of strange doctors and nurses with needles and bright lights, seemed abusive.  

We arrived home about 2:30am.  I was so grateful that my friend had chaperoned the ordeal- there is nothing worse than sitting in an emergency room for hours- I dread this to my core- and it has happened four times this year.  FOUR TIMES.  Twice, I have had wonderful friends by my side and it has made an enormous difference.  Liam was probably mortified, but my friend and I passed the time by joking and laughing and seeing how crazy we are.  At one point Tom called to see if I had the car keys, even though I didn't drive our vehicle.  I did.  Then my friend's husband called to see if she had his truck keys.  She did.  Both sets.  So 8 kids and two husbands were stranded at one home together,with my new vacuum, late at night, searching for an extra key to any vehicle.  You have to laugh about that.   

Long story shorter, we were admitted to the hospital in the wee hours of the morning on Monday, after an exhausting eight hours in the ER, Sunday night, and have been here ever since, a second operation to attempt to drain an infection that quickly took over his face, performed yesterday afternoon.

Liam is getting better.  His mood is normal- completely laid back and unfazed by anything.  The nurses laugh because they have nearly been begging him to take pain killers but he refuses- says he's good.  Even when he has appeared to be a close relative to the elephant man, due to swelling.... 

Harry Potter legos have kept him occupied.....we are sucker parents for sick kids....the hospital is beyond amazing, newly opened just a year ago, such a nurturing and beautiful environment for kids. 

We are hoping to be home by Friday.....at which time I will feverishly VACUUM!






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Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, United States
Forty-three year-old, mother and staunch advocate of four young children, passionate warrior of truth and self, finding the soul in each day, sharing my struggles and triumphs as I live them. Mostly I do this for me, so my thoughts don't race as much at night as they used to. But I also give this to those of you who need to know, in any or every way, that you are not alone.

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