I am now home and actually showered today. Yesterday I had to once again hobble out to the car and make our way up to the doctors office for a follow up visit. Got to see the baby again, this time under much calmer circumstances. Also, got to see pictures taken during the surgery. The thought of them still makes me sick to my stomach, or is that the morning sickness? Let me just say, all descriptions were confirmed. Tomato sized-yes, black and blue-uh huh, twisted-yup. There's even a picture of the aspirator doing it's job.
Through all of the events of the last few days, we didn't call anybody to tell them what was happening. Only R.'s sitter who, luckily was able to rush to the hospital and take him while I was busy clearing out the ER of patients thinking maybe they didn't need that finger reattached after all.
Honestly, it all happened so fast, passing it on was the last thing on my mind. And then when I was laid up in my hospital bed, I just didn't feel like recapping the adventure over and over again to numerous family members over the phone. I usually leave that shit to Dave. Why would this be any different.
The whole shebang occurred on Monday. It was now Tuesday night and I was comfortably propped up by my own pillows in my own bed. Still, the urge to purge was just not in me. But, I knew I had to bite the bullet and call... duh duh duh dunnnn... my mom.
I've come to realize that my mom actually thrives on bad news and nothings more juicy than a good emergency surgery story that she can then get on the horn and re-tell as if it was happening to her. I'll never forget how, in spinning the yarn that was the birth of my son, she managed to make it about how "exhausted" she was after I went through a 24 hour labor. One in which everything that could go wrong did.
So, here we go. One ringy dingy...
Her reaction was predictable as ever. The gasping at the details, the controlled sobbing, the making it about her and of course the inevitable question "can I tell people?". Sure, mom, of course you can. My gift to you.