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So we’re in Buffalo visiting my mom. We got in very late Monday (or, technically, very early Tuesday) and I went to lunch with a couple of high school friends on Tuesday. When I got back to my mom’s house nobody was here. After a while I got a call from Jake saying that Fiona fell on her head and they were all in the ER.
Now, there are ways to break bad news, and I have to say, Jake hasn’t mastered this yet. What he should have said was that Fiona had a small accident while sledding, and that while she seems to be absolutely fine – no loss of consciousness or throwing up or anything else scary that I associate with bad head injuries – her nose and lip were bruised and swollen so grandma thought that it would be best to take her to the ER (for the record, my mom is a nurse, but as she says herself she’s not a “real” nurse – she works in the OR and is about as useful in a “real” emergency as my Wall St. lawyer husband would be if you got arrested in a bar fight).
I went to the ER to deliver my insurance card and pick up Jake. Fiona was fine with my mom and frankly, I was thrilled not to spend an afternoon in the ER. Poor Fiona looked pretty banged up: her nose was all puffy, she was developing a black eye, and her upper lip was so swollen she looked like a Simpsons character. In the end it turned out that she had fractured her nose in a very small way and knocked a baby tooth loose – all things that will resolve themselves. She spent the rest of the day on the couch looking pathetic and milking it for all the donuts and cookies she could get.
The next day, Wednesday, I was downstairs while Fiona was getting a shower (not as weird as you would think – it’s a very small house and you can hear every little thing that happens no matter where you are). I heard a thud and a yell and I ran upstairs to find her sitting in the tub, doubled over and crying. She had been pressing down on a pump soap container, it slipped out from under her, and she fell stomach-first onto the side of the tub. She was OK, but started whining about how this was the worst trip ever and wanted to go home. I told her to cheer up, that it couldn’t possibly get any worse.
Thursday morning Fiona started throwing up. And kept throwing up. She continued throwing up until there was nothing left, and then threw up a few more times for good measure. Then my mom started feeling queasy, and threw up. By evening, both of them were in my mom’s bed with separate buckets.
So, I’m just wondering what disaster Friday will bring.
Originally posted on Selfish Mom. All opinions expressed on this website come straight from Amy unless otherwise noted. Please visit Amy’s Full Disclosure page for more information. Amy also blogs at Filming In Brooklyn, Behind the Screen, Momtourage, and podcasts with The Blogging Angels.