I was absent from the virtual world for most of yesterday. Most of you probably didn’t notice. Those of you who did are online too much. Seriously, get out and take a walk or something. Yes, that statement is directed at me, too. I spend entirely too much time online.
I spend most of my time online at work, where chattering back and forth on Twitter and through WP comments keeps me sane throughout the day. Yesterday was not one of those days even though I was supposed to be at work.
I was at work, actually, for all of 30 minutes. Then my phone rang. I could hear the unmistakable sound of Baby C crying in the background before I could even say hello. It was my mother, who now watches Baby C while I’m at work.
Evidently, my mother had underestimated Baby C’s reach when she placed her freshly made tea on the counter yesterday morning. In the two seconds she had turned her back to him he had grabbed it and ripped it from the counter and dumped scalding hot liquid over his chest and arm in the process.
“I’m not his guardian so I can’t take him to the emergency room,” my mother explained.
I quickly inquired about the extent of his injuries. “Are there any red marks or blisters?”
“None that I can see,” she answered.
“Okay, give him a bath in luke-warm water,” I instructed. “He loves a good bath and that will calm him down. If you do see any blisters or think he needs to go to the ER, call me back and I’ll leave right away.”
She acknowledged and we hung up. Not more than five minutes later my phone rang again. It was my mother again. There were red marks. There were blisters.
I told her I’d leave immediately and hung up the phone. I quickly explained to my boss what had happened and jetted. I half-ran to my car and sped home. I’m not sure how many traffic laws I violated during that drive, but had a cop been anywhere near me I might have lost my license yesterday.
I arrived at my mother’s house and ran inside. She had Baby C wrapped in a blanket, wearing nothing but his diaper. He face was beat red and he couldn’t stop crying. She had been trying to get some dry clothes on him but he wasn’t cooperating. I grabbed my son and took him to the couch so I could examine him.
It was a struggle (that child has a surprisingly good grip) to pull him away from my body, but I managed to do so. There were streaks of red burn marks going down the left side of his chest with a pretty good-sized blister where his chest and belly meet. There was also a pretty good-sized blister on his left arm just below his arm pit.
I concluded that it wasn’t life or death, but it needed medical attention. As I held my son I whipped out my cell phone and dialed his doctor’s office. I explained the situation to the receptionist and she told me I could bring him up right away to be looked at.
I was able to get him dressed and off we went. My mom drove while I sat in the back with Baby C and held his hand. The car ride and comfort of my touch finally calmed him down and he actually almost fell asleep by the time we arrived at the office.
When I woke him up to take him in, the pain must have returned because he began wailing again. I hugged him tightly and spoke soothing words into his ear as I carried him inside. They got us to a room almost immediately and the doctor came in a few minutes later.
When the doctor came in it was again a struggle to get Baby C to let go of me so I could place him on the table to be examined. The doctor looked at the burns, then looked at me and said, “This is good.”
I must have looked at him like he had just sprouted horns from his forehead because he then said, “Hear me out. This is the best possible scenario. He has some first and second degree burns, but they don’t look bad at all. Just apply polysporin to them three times a day and wrap the one on his arm as that one worries me the most. You want to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”
Phew! I was glad to hear nothing serious would be required and I’m sure my mom was even more so because she was already beating herself up about it. The doctor told me he’d send a nurse in to take care of the initial dressing.
Oh, and that was fun. I tried to comfort Baby C and hold him still with my hands while the nurse cleaned the burns with iodine, but he was having none of it. So I eventually had to pin him to the table WWE style so that the nurse could clean the burns and apply the polysporin and gauze to his arm. The terrifying wail of a scared toddler is one of the worst sounds you’ll ever hear in your life. I hate that sound and it’s even more disturbing when it’s your own child making it.
Baby C was ecstatic when we left. He doesn’t like being in that office because he normally gets shots when he’s there. Once in the car he was much happier.
We headed to Wal-Mart to get some more gauze and polysporin for his burns. Once we were inside he was ecstatic because there are TV’s hanging all over the place and he just loves to shout out about things he recognizes.
“Look! It’s a TV!” he’d scream. Then a little further down the aisle, “Look! It’s a TV!” I knew he was feeling better when he started grabbing stuph from the shelf to put in the cart and grabbing stuph we had put in the cart and thowing it out onto the floor.
When we eventually got home he crashed and took a three and a half hour nap. And I took a small nap with him.
Yes, my baby is fine, but we had a brief scare yesterday. I’m sure it won’t be the last. That child is fearless.