Thursday, January 26, 2012

That Moment

Warning: If you're the squeamish type, you should skip this post. You definitely should NOT scroll down to the pictures.

Have you ever experienced That Moment? You know, when there's something potentially dangerous nearby and you know you shouldn't leave them unsupervised, but you've just got one thing to do that'll only take a minute? And then you hear the shrieks that let you know you're The Worst Mother in the History of the World? That Moment? We had one of those on Monday.

Smartie had asked if she could walk on the treadmill for PE, which she's done a few times before. Papa Runner and I have warned our kids over and over not to go near the treadmill when it's on. Smartie had completed a 1/4 mile and the other kids were otherwise engaged when I heard the washing machine buzz. I ran up to move the load over and was on my way back down when it happened. Sassy had touched the treadmill.

She lost the entire outer layer of skin on the bottom of two fingers from just above the second knuckle to the tip. Amazingly, there doesn't seem to be any damage to muscle or bone, thank God. But seeing her shredded fingers was still a heart-stopping moment.

This has been giving me PTSD-style flashbacks to when Sweetie nearly lost her finger to infection. They had to take the skin off from the second knuckle up, and it looked almost exactly like this but with neater edges. She ended up with a lot of scarring. With regular massage and what the doctor called "informal PT," it doesn't seem to affect her now. She has almost the full range of motion, just can't straighten it the last bit, and is learning to write without a problem.

Our biggest concern for Sassy, of course, is infection. In fact, I decided not to take her to the doctor because I'm sure that's where Sweetie was exposed after a minor cut, and that led to a 4 day hospital stay and the word "amputation" being thrown around. I've been keeping them bandaged with antibiotic ointment. The next biggest concern is scarring. I'm already planning to massage them regularly with vitamin E oil once they're healed enough.

We are now 3 days past the injury. She doesn't complain of pain except when we change the bandages, which is an ordeal. She asks Monkey to hold her hand, and he faithfully does. (Twins are awesome!) This morning they were still very swollen, and she couldn't bend them much, but seemed a little better tonight. I'm hoping they don't stiffen and that she'll have a good range of motion.

The injury is to her left hand, and while my other kids were clearly righties from birth, Sassy uses both hands almost equally, the left a little more than the right. I wonder if this will push her into preferring the right or if she'll remain ambidextrous/left-handed.





The bandages back on, and she's happy. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess.

Monday, January 16, 2012

Dealing with Miscarriage

So my previous post was triggered by this "Pop Quiz" that appeared in Good Housekeeping. It offers a scenario of a woman who has announced her pregnancy but then suffers a miscarriage and asks what you would do, offering three choices--do nothing because miscarriage is private, leave a note and flowers on her desk, or tell her you're there for her if she needs to talk. Now I have lost two babies in the first trimester, and speaking for myself I would prefer a note or kind word. I certainly know not all women would deal with this situation as I would. Some prefer to grieve privately, and that is totally okay. I would never judge another woman for how she chooses to mourn.

Good Housekeeping could have said that people grieve differently and the correct response is to follow their cues, offering support if it's welcome and leaving them alone if that's their preference. But that's not what they said. They said the correct response is to do nothing. My knee jerk reaction was that this idea that miscarriage must always be private reinforces old taboos (which, thankfully, seem to be disappearing) and does a disservice to women like me who want and need the support. I did not mean to imply that those who grieve privately are doing anything wrong. I was just upset at the insinuation that those of us who are more open in our grief are the ones in the wrong.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

What would you do?

I'm really curious to know how people would handle these hypothetical situations.

Situation 1: Your coworker Lucy is not at work today. Word spreads through the office that her father died suddenly last night. What do you do?

a: Tell her you're sorry for her loss when she returns.

b: Leave a note of sympathy on her desk.

c: Do nothing. Grief is private, and if she wants to talk with you she will.

Now let's alter it slightly.

Situation 2: Your coworker Lucy recently announced her pregnancy, but is not at work today. Word spreads through the office that she miscarried. What do you do?

a: Tell her you're sorry for her loss when she returns.

b: Leave a note of sympathy on her desk.

c: Do nothing. Grief is private, and if she wants to talk with you she will.

Was your response different? Why or why not?