I don’t know if ya’ll know it, but our home is constructed of 12-inch-thick adobe (mud and straw) home that has been covered in stucco and lived in for 100 years. We have beautiful wood floors, huge closets and bathroom, and large wonderful windows with deep sills to sit and admire the view. Well, it’s also cold! REALLY cold, and the sun has been shining and it’s been warm outside for two days and I STILL have to wear a sweatshirt inside. So today, I decide to open all the huge windows to let the warm air in. The windows, being 100 years old, are large and heavy and are pushed up and held open by weights built into the INSIDE of the window frame. Some of the rope holding these weights has frayed and broken over the years so we use a 1 x 2 to hold the windows up. Mr. B was looking outside at the birds flying around and grabbed the piece of wood holding up the 30 pound window and it came crashing down on his pudgy little 2-year-old hand.
The local clinic’s “system” is down so they couldn’t read any x-rays, and they only had stitches (no glue) so I had to drive 45 minutes to the ER in Willcox. After being ignored and trying to keep Mr. B occupied for 55 minutes, I told the “lady” sitting behind the counter that I was sent to have my son’s thumb stitched and have x-rays taken – could I possible have his thumb stitched while I waited to get in to radiology?
15 minutes later, they bring us it, look at his hand and ask me if this is the only reason I brought him in. They look at me like I’m an over-protective mom when I tell them what happened. They laugh when the walk around the sound-proof barrier of the flimsy fabric curtain that separates me from the man with the UTI and say “This is pathetic! Throw some glue on there and let’s get to work!”.
“Look”, I said oh so nicely, “It’s not like some little window with thin glass hit his little thumb and knuckles! A 3 FOOT by 4 FOOT window filled with antique glass and bordered by 2 x 4 chunks of wood FELL on my son’s hand. I think it needs to be looked at”. Somehow, the sound-proof barrier must have prevented them from hearing my rant because 35 minutes later I got 2 drops of super-glue and a discharge paper. No x-rays, no stitches. All for the co-pay price of $100 + gas. The glue popped off while at Pizza Hut and Noah got spaghetti sauce in his gaping wound and I had to go back with a tired, hungry, now screaming child to try to get this little wound taken care of. I am told to wait in the waiting room and go through the ER system again. They put a piece of tape on his thumb. Still no x-rays. It’s been a long day. 11 am to 4:30 pm. I’m going to have to sit in about 9,657,823,194 hours of sunshine to get out of this rut and I just want to go to bed.
The good news – there’s always good news – Mr. B’s hand is not broken, only possibly fractured, which might lead to an infection which could lead to him going on antibiotics and maybe a resetting of the fracture. And, naturally, another trip to the hospital. In another city of course.