Blood, Sweat, Tears

Mostly blood and tears, honestly. But there was no doubt some sweating involved.

Hey, Cadence--

Today was one of those days I suspect you will never forget. I know I won't.

This morning before lunchtime we decided to play for only a very few minutes in the play room. You and Cam started out with some books on the super-soft "reading couch". It didn't take long for the "reading couch" to become the "jumping couch", as it always does, and you climbed quickly to the top to jump down onto the supremely bouncy cushions. As you did so you reached out and grabbed the cord from the window blinds behind you. I said, "don't grab that!" but it was too late and you jumped down with cord in hand.

As soon as you landed you were screaming and crying. Your cry told me something was seriously wrong. I ran to you and your hand was filled with blood. I thought maybe the cord had slit a flap of skin in your palm or something. I took you to the bathroom to rinse some of the blood so that I could figure out what was going on. You were screaming, you would not let me rinse it or move it or anything. I was able to see that it was your thumb (right hand) and that the fingernail was at least partially missing. It was really hard for me to tell exactly what I was looking at, but the blood was coming fast and you were in a lot of pain and looking pale, and I was pretty sure I could see bone. So I grabbed a onesie that was nearby and wrapped it around your hand, not knowing if I should apply pressure, which no doubt increase the pain even more, or try to do anything on my own or what. I tried to call Valerie, our wonderful neighbor who was a nurse, but she didn't answer, so I decided to just get you to an emergency room right away so that the pain and bleeding could be controlled.

I thought about the fact that maybe an entire piece of your thumb might be missing and so I quickly ran into the play room to look for a thumb. I didn't see it and was too panicked about your bleeding to think about the thumb. It's probably a good thing I didn't find it because I probably would have put it in a cup of milk and taken it to the E-room and gotten some pretty weird looks, since body parts are supposed to be on ice and teeth are supposed to be on milk. Something I didn't realize until later in the day.

You sat at the top of the stairs with the onesie around your hand while I grabbed the babies and put them into the car. You asked several times in a panicked, sobbing voice, "Mom, will my fingernail ever come back?" and "Mom, will it ever be normal again?" And you told me many times how much it hurt. Oh, even now, as I write this, my heart just hurts and pain teases my nerves to imagine you in such pain. I carefully carried you down to the car. I was going to just take all three of you into the emergency room, since I didn't want to take the time to find somebody. But then I realized I didn't know where I was going, anyway!

I called one of my great friends here, Tara, and asked her where she would go if she was going to go to an Emergency Room. Just having to say the words made me start crying! She told me where to go and then said she would come and meet me there to get the kids.

She and her husband met us there and while Tara got the carseats and babies squared away, her husband Dan carried you in and held you while I filled out the paperwork and answered questions. I took you back into my arms as soon as I could and thanked Dan. He left but then another guy walked by--somebody who worked at the hospital-- and asked, "Has she had a blessing yet?" "No, no she hasn't." I said. I hadn't called your dad because I was trying to remain calm and if I was to overreact and make it into a big deal I would just have to start flipping out. And I hadn't asked for a blessing because, I guess I was waiting for somebody to tell me how serious it was.

In any case, he offered to go back and get Dan so that they could bless you. Isn't that so sweet? So he (later we learned his name is Joel Rawneck and is in our stake and recognized Dan) and Dan stayed with us until the time was right to administer a blessing. They did and then the nurse came in and started to clean your wound. She was very gentle with you and worked slowly, since you were very against the idea of anything, including just still water, touching your wound. She started by rinsing your other hand. and then the wrist of the injured hand. And worked up to your thumb. In the end you would still hardly let her rinse you. But the blood had slowed quite a bit and that was a relief.

The Dr. came in swiftly and seemed to give it barely more than a sideways glance before pronouncing that the nailbed was ripped out and that some good bandaging and a few weeks is all that would need to heal itself. The doctor left just as quickly as he appeared and the nurse went out to get some pain meds--finally!





Your injury happened at 11:40 ish am and by 12:30 you finally had some serious pain killers. Only about 5-10 minutes after the Tylenol with Codeine was given, you smiled for the first time since it happened. I'm not used to seeing you without a smile; that first smile was priceless to me. You rested for a few minutes while the nurse explained (not very clearly, I might say) how to dress it and what to look for, etc. and then we were on our way. I picked you up and you rested your head on my shoulder and said in sincere and sweet way that I'll never forget, "Mom, I'm sorry I did not obey your rule and played with the blinds." It was too sweet.

Your poor father. In my hustle and bustle I excused myself from calling him because I didn't want it to be a big deal. I didn't know what they were going to do so I thought I'd wait and call him after I get the doctor's opinion. So during a down-time in the room, when the nurse and doctor had both stepped out, I took some pictures with my phone and sent a quick text message to him just to let him know something had happened but that we were okay. The picture I sent was a close-up of your thumb (too gory for a blog) and these words:

Cadence. Nail bed gone, plus chunk off end of rt thumb.
We're okay, lot's of pain and blood. Had a blessing from
Dan F and guy at emergency rm.

Now, I thought that was clear and concise. Spencer just told me that if he hadn't been debriefed by Dan (also works at Walmart), who wandered into his office just before Spencer got my text, he probably would have "thrown up, yelled out a swear-word, and then jumped in the car to come find us." (*he then said that he really probably wouldn't have sworn, and that throwing up may or may not be replaced with "cried"). Wow, I didn't expect that. It was a pretty gruesome picture but I thought he'd appreciate that.

When we got back to our van I called your dad and he was so relieved to hear from us. I had to go get some pain controlling meds for you so we went to pick him up to come with us. He just really needed to be with you, I could tell. He got in the car and went to the back to be with you. He carried you around Walmart and took you to pick out donuts. He didn't even care that you were having donuts before your lunch! You, incidentally, were in a really good mood now that the codeine was kicking in! Your pitch was a little out-of-control and here-and-there, and your words would come out in spurts and giggles would escape inextricably. You were quite pleasant company, I admit!

When we got home I went straight up to look for the rest of your thumb. I just was sure there had to be some "remains". I found it. It was so disturbingly whole looking. I recognized it. It was a finger I had seen do many many things. I put it in a little bag and walked away. Then I came back to look again. And walked away feeling sad and a little weakened. I had to keep reminding myself that your finger is going to grow back. That was not your finger anymore. Your finger is going to grow. I kept coming back to it. And then walking away. I finally took some pictures to txt to your dad just cause I needed to share it with him. I also included pretty clever text, but it would seem a little out of context here. I cannot tell you how weird it was to look at.

You went and looked for it too, and were quite bummed you couldn't find it. You kept asking me where it was. You looked and looked and had the sense that I knew but wasn't telling. But I couldn't bring myself to show it to you.

You were very brave today. You have been very curious about it all and very patient. You were jumping on couches before the end of the day (in spite of my panicked pleas to stop).



Please tell me that this is still the story you tell about a major injury. I hope that there are minimal markings to show for it but also that it's the craziest thing you have to talk about.

Campbell's leg, your thumb. Can we please be done? That list is as long as it needs to be, thank you.

On our way home from the hospital you and I said a little prayer of thanks. Gratitude fills my heart tonight that you are okay. That you are feeling well and your prognosis is good and that the body heals itself. Gratitude that the Flemings were available and willing to help in the very instant that we needed it. Gratitude that your daddy is so supportive and loving and truly invested in his children. And gratitude for the healing power of the priesthood and that that power is available to us for physical and spiritual strength and healing when we need it.

I love you, Cadence. Your Daddy does, too. I mean, that guy is usually cool-as-a-cucumber, and he about fell apart just seeing the pictures of you. He just wanted to be by your side and be there for you. He said he couldn't focus the rest of the whole day. He really loves you and your sisters.

You should know you were brave and strong and kept it together today. I hope that as you read this you can say that it healed so well you'd never know it happened. And now I feel like I should go rip all the blinds down.