Yesterday I was sitting here, on my computer, fiddling with the virus yet again when I heard a horrible scream from outside. I guessed it was Drew and jumped up to see what happened. He flew in here holding his finger up. Blood and skin were hanging all over. Very gross. He had pinched his finger in the stroller while he and Hunter were taking turns pushing eachother. When he yanked his finger free, he ripped the pad of the finger tip off. Kind of. It was hanging there still. Again, gross. I can not handle this stuff. There's a reason I never became a nurse like my mom.
We ran next door to ask the neighbors if they'd watch Hunter and Louisa, and Drew and I took off for the ER. Much unlike our last ER experience, we got in right away. They X-rayed his hand since his finger had been pinched. They told us a small piece of bone could break off and he'd never even know it. Luckily, no broken bone.
I think the absolute worst part of the whole thing was when the nurse was washing his finger. I held him to me very close and he screamed and cried. I can only imagine how horribly painful that was. She had to really get in there, under that flap of skin, and clean it all out good. My finger hurts just thinking of it!
The doctor came in (the same one I've had terrible experience with twice before!), and said "Oh, this won't need stitches! Just some glue!" The look on Drew's face was too funny. Glue?! On his finger?! LOL! And yes, they glued the skin down. I liked that. It was painless, and now dirt won't get in there. They gave him a bandage and we were on our way.
When we got home he had to run all over and show his friends his glued finger. He had stitches when he was 2-years-old in his head, but he doesn't remember. I'm so glad we didn't have to do that this time. He wouldn't have been near as willing as he was 5 years ago.