Hello All,
Monday night began on a very promising note. I had barbecued the chicken, Lela had assembled her incredible "smashed potatoes" and there was a Dryers Cookies n Cream in the freezer. The kids didn't even fight at the table...neither did the adults! Things were moving along really nicely.
After dinner, the playing began, while Lela and I cleaned our little kitchen area. The kids were playing really well, enjoying the benefits of being so close in age. Soon, the playing turned into wrestling and running, a recurring motif in the Sanchez home, especially after dinner.
The next few seconds are a blur. Lizzy came crying first, so most of my attention was on her. She has a bit of a shrill cry that raises the dead. Most of the time, the occasion of pain does not meet the shrillness of her cry. (Read, "She can be a bit dramatic...") Our attention was on her and Renae, who was trying to explain how it wasn't her fault. In the background, Caleb was jumping up and down, crying, saying "Owie, Owie." Not very manly, but this is the mantra of pain for the Bwudda. He was facing the other direction and when he turned, that red spot just above his right eye immediately caught my attention.
At this point, Lela went over to Caleb to begin to collect the blood that was coming out of this wound and I went to grab a towel. We put on the pressure and the blood stopped flowing. The cut was small, but the impact with the corner of the wall, left a deep cut. Lela and I both started talking about what should be done. We are in between insurances, so this was going to be interesting.
Meanwhile, Caleb said, "I don't want to get stitches." He was crying, about to get hysterical about the prospect. I looked him in the eye and told him, "We are not going to worry about that right now. You need to calm down. You might not even need stitches." My words calmed him and then we sat together to watch the Lord Of The Rings Appendices. Somehow, the making of swords and digital monsters kept him very calm.
During this time, it was decided that we needed to take him in. Lela called her parents, who live just up the street, to come down and watch the girls. Remember, Caleb is calm and doing really well now. Dad and Mom walk in and this was the conversation:
Dad: Oh yeah, he's gonna need STITCHES!
Mom: Oh, but don't worry Caleb: They give you a SHOT to deal with the pain!!
On the inside, I was just cracking up! It was so funny. But Caleb was now in the throes of great soul turmoil. "Stitches AND a SHOT!?!?!?" I can only imagine the visuals that were going through his mind. Here comes the very large, freaky Doctor (a kid's perspective) with a needle the size of a tree branch! There was no consoling him now, but I tried. Again, I said, "Caleb, we don't know what they are going to do..." This helped a little.
We came to the hospital, imagining that we would be there for several hours. Thankfully, we were there for just about two. After all the drama, as well as answering the same questions over and over again, they decided that stitches would not be needed. In fact, all that they would need to do was to glue the wound! I COULD HAVE DONE THAT!!! The blessing came a few minutes later, when one of the secretaries told us that they would bill our insurance when it kicked in! We all win!
I came away from this night with a few laughs, a story to tell, and a great sermon illustration for Thursday night. Not a bad night after all!
Blessings...To Our Friends,
Frank Sanchez
P.S. Pictures might come soon...the wound may be a little anti-climactic!
Monday night began on a very promising note. I had barbecued the chicken, Lela had assembled her incredible "smashed potatoes" and there was a Dryers Cookies n Cream in the freezer. The kids didn't even fight at the table...neither did the adults! Things were moving along really nicely.
After dinner, the playing began, while Lela and I cleaned our little kitchen area. The kids were playing really well, enjoying the benefits of being so close in age. Soon, the playing turned into wrestling and running, a recurring motif in the Sanchez home, especially after dinner.
The next few seconds are a blur. Lizzy came crying first, so most of my attention was on her. She has a bit of a shrill cry that raises the dead. Most of the time, the occasion of pain does not meet the shrillness of her cry. (Read, "She can be a bit dramatic...") Our attention was on her and Renae, who was trying to explain how it wasn't her fault. In the background, Caleb was jumping up and down, crying, saying "Owie, Owie." Not very manly, but this is the mantra of pain for the Bwudda. He was facing the other direction and when he turned, that red spot just above his right eye immediately caught my attention.
At this point, Lela went over to Caleb to begin to collect the blood that was coming out of this wound and I went to grab a towel. We put on the pressure and the blood stopped flowing. The cut was small, but the impact with the corner of the wall, left a deep cut. Lela and I both started talking about what should be done. We are in between insurances, so this was going to be interesting.
Meanwhile, Caleb said, "I don't want to get stitches." He was crying, about to get hysterical about the prospect. I looked him in the eye and told him, "We are not going to worry about that right now. You need to calm down. You might not even need stitches." My words calmed him and then we sat together to watch the Lord Of The Rings Appendices. Somehow, the making of swords and digital monsters kept him very calm.
During this time, it was decided that we needed to take him in. Lela called her parents, who live just up the street, to come down and watch the girls. Remember, Caleb is calm and doing really well now. Dad and Mom walk in and this was the conversation:
Dad: Oh yeah, he's gonna need STITCHES!
Mom: Oh, but don't worry Caleb: They give you a SHOT to deal with the pain!!
On the inside, I was just cracking up! It was so funny. But Caleb was now in the throes of great soul turmoil. "Stitches AND a SHOT!?!?!?" I can only imagine the visuals that were going through his mind. Here comes the very large, freaky Doctor (a kid's perspective) with a needle the size of a tree branch! There was no consoling him now, but I tried. Again, I said, "Caleb, we don't know what they are going to do..." This helped a little.
We came to the hospital, imagining that we would be there for several hours. Thankfully, we were there for just about two. After all the drama, as well as answering the same questions over and over again, they decided that stitches would not be needed. In fact, all that they would need to do was to glue the wound! I COULD HAVE DONE THAT!!! The blessing came a few minutes later, when one of the secretaries told us that they would bill our insurance when it kicked in! We all win!
I came away from this night with a few laughs, a story to tell, and a great sermon illustration for Thursday night. Not a bad night after all!
Blessings...To Our Friends,
Frank Sanchez
P.S. Pictures might come soon...the wound may be a little anti-climactic!
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