LoveFest Part 2 – Red Hot

So, as I was taking the picture of my lovely flowers, I heard this hideous wailing like Magoo’s arms were being cut off. My first feeling was annoyance, “Give him back the toy already and we can all carry on to lead productive lives!”

I openned the door to find Magoo standing, supporting himself with his hands against the electric wall heater. As I ran over, he dropped to the ground and wouldn’t stop wailing. Laylee has never been burned by one of these heaters. But then, she’s a girl.

I ran his hands under cold water, put a wet washcloth on his palms and called the Urgent Care Facility 10 minutes from our house. Nope. They don’t mess around with hand burns on little kids. I’d have to take him to the hospital ER 30 minutes away.

I’m usually pretty good in emergencies and tend to break down AFTER but this was not one of those times. I kind of started freaking out. I called Dan at MegaCorp and he said he’d meet me at the hospital. But what about the car trip over there? Who would hold the cold cloth on his hands?

I had this picture in my mind of his hands curling up into permenant fists as the skin contracted and healed taut on the drive over. As I was voicing this concern to DYD, the doorbell rang. It was my mother’s helper. This week we’d changed the day and she was here to help with whatever I needed.

“Get in the car. We’re going to the ER and I need you to hold a wet washcloth on Magoo’s burns.”

“Um……I brought you these sugar cookies.”

Helper sang songs to Magoo as he screamed bloody murder the entire way. The singing was good as it camouflaged the nasty things I was saying to the incredibly lame and insensitive drivers I was passing in the retchin’ fretchin’ rush hour traffic.

I would like to take this moment to yell at the lady who drove in the fast lane, boxing me in at 62 mph on the freeway while the lane in front of her remained clear as far as the eye could see.

WHAT IN THE NAME OF CHEESE IS WRONG WITH YOU!!????? I FLASHED MY BRIGHTS. I WAVED YOU TO MOVE OVER. I VERBALLY AND GESTURALLY BEGGED YOU TO MOVE OVER…IN MY MINI-VAN! YOU WERE DRIVING THE SAME SPEED AS THE PEOPLE IN THE SLOW LANE! YOU JUST SAT THERE, SHAKING YOU SHAGGY HEAD OF 80’S HAIR LIKE YOU WERE GONNA TEACH ME A LESSON!

I LEARNED A LESSON. I LEARNED THAT YOU SHOULD HAVE YOUR LICENSE REVOKED ON ACCOUNT OF HAVING NO MERCY IN YOUR SOUL.

Aaahhh. I’m glad I got that off my chest. There should be some universal symbol for “I’m not just a wacko who’s driving like a crazed maniac because I’m late for a tennis lesson. I’m taking my kid to the EMERGENCY ROOM. Kindly move out of my ever-living way.” She had me blocked in for fully 5 minutes people, all the time shaking her head and maintaining a constant 62 on her speedometer, all the while I’m sure my son will never have the use of his poor disfigured hands again.

So eventually we got there. Helper ran in the front doors with Magoo while I went to find a parking spot. She then sat in the lobby with Laylee while DYD and I went back to triage.

Magoo got to splash in some water.

This was the first time in his life he didn’t want to splash in some water.

But, being the over-prepared-for-usually-all-the-wrong-things mom that I am, I had a measuring cup and water toys in my diaper bag, along with a change of clothes for after the splattering.

They wrapped his hand in a bandage with ointment and told me to try to keep it on. Ha HA! It didn’t last 2 minutes in the car.

I had him back in to the pediatrician’s office this morning to check in. We go back on Friday and on Monday to check for infection. In the meantime, I’m supposed to keep him bandaged, while he pulls at the gauze with his fingers, teeth, toes, charred gimpy stump, etc.

Really, it’s not that bad. He has 4 long skinny blisters on his palm. What the doctors are really worried about is the chance of complications caused by infection because he crawls on all fours like a dog, licks the bottom of shoes, and splashes in the toilet if I ever leave the bathroom door open a crack. I think they’re also worried about that poor lady and what happened to her to make her such an unfeeling wench.

We drugged the Magoo with Ibuprofen, put the kids to bed and finished a lovely Valentine’s Day with a game of cards and some shnuggling.