See, J had those staples put in her head somewhere around two months ago and today I sit here, finally, writing about the absolutely ridiculous day we all had when we went to the hospital to have them removed.
I recall it being a blustery Tuesday in which I had a number of errands on my list with the hopefully quick ER visit last. We accomplished the other errands without incident and headed to the hospital (I would have happily gone to our pediatrician, but then I pay more because the ER kindly includes the removal visit in their nominal fee when you go there, in the first place, to have them installed).
As I get out of the car I notice that my door closes on its own with quite a bit of gusto. I make a mental note to carry M, as he does not like wind, and S as she is probably too small to withstand the wind (although she thinks it is great fun). I proceed around my SUV opening the doors (and trunk-as two children enter and exit there) to let everyone out. Yes, I do often feel like a flight attendent, in case you were wondering. I hear some protests about the wind, but very sympathetically point out that the entrance is "right over there" (about 50 yards).
I begin walking toward the doors, shielding my youngest two from the wind when I notice I am alone. I look around and find Z, carrying a bag of books, has made a beeline for the door with his head down and has severely missed his target and obviously has no idea of his misfortune. However, that quickly becomes no big deal as over the wind I hear T and J screaming at the top of their lungs. They are literally being blown across the parking lot.
Time out: Have you ever watched the Weather Channel during a severe hurricane? Well, if you are as dorky as Ryan and I and you have then just picture those poor weather reporter people who continue talking while they are nearly horizontal and holding onto a light pole, but much shorter, cuter, and helpless.
This is what I saw except that every two seconds one of the girls would actually fall to the ground and try to get up only to be swept FARTHER away from the door. Meanwhile, I am completely incapacitated. I can't set a child down (let's not imagine what would happen to a lighter person), but I don't even have a hand free. I have one child on each hip, one child blindly heading off to who knows where, and two girls nearly rolling across the parking lot. I quickly decide that I have to get Z to come back, if he can hear me, to sit with M and S in the ER lobby.
I wait for a brief break in the gusting and holler with all my might to get Z's attention. It worked! He looks more than befuddled as to how he ended up where he was, but now heads in the right direction. I can now focus on the girls who are screaming as they have managed to find solace in a parking lot island and are CLINGING to a poor two year old tree. However, this island happens to have small rock as its ground cover and they are continuously crawling or falling on this material. Thus, more reason to holler...other than being helpless.
I attempt to tell them my plan, but it really isn't worth it. I make a beeline to the door and get through the first set of sliding doors, set down M and S, tell Z to "watch them" and RUN back outside. I rescue my two girls who are still trying to claw their way across the rocks on all fours, but keep ending up back at their beloved tree. As we go in I notice that T is particularly upset. Come to find out her headband blew away. Deep breath...deal with that in a bit.
As I walk through the second set of double doors, with all of my children safely in tow, I am now in a very crowded waiting room for the ER. I feel fifty thoughts a second rushing to my head.
Something like this: This waiting room is full. We are going to have to wait a long time. It is almost lunch time. I can't wait more than an hour. Wait, they are all staring at us. Are you serious? They must have just watched us fall all over the parking lot. Wow, that is fantastic. Glad my family could be of some entertainment. Hold on people...really? None of you abled bodied people could have helped me? Really??? Oh well, I will look straight ahead. We are all OK. I will be the composed mom of five and smile.I go to the counter and this kind woman looks at me sympathetically.
What? Did they have a running commentary going on in here?She now informs me, almost sheepishly, that the wait is over two hours long; they have just been very busy today. "OK, maybe my husband will bring her this evening", I say with a fair amount of resignation. She kindly offers me the nurse station phone number which we can call later to see if the wait is shorter.
I take my brood through the first set of doors to many fearful protests and tell them to wait on the small bench that is in this small area before actually going outside.
As I run out to my car to pull it up to the doors I realize my keys were gone!! I climb in the car to empty my purse and it dawns on me that I can hear the engine running. I had never turned off our car!!! I take another deep breath and place one child at a time inside the running car.
We all made it home safely.
And I found the headband!!!