The Dreaded Phone Call NO Parent Wants to Receive...

Yesterday we got a call from our daughter's school... actually I missed the call when it came in, but checked my message immediately. It went like this, "Hi Colleen. This is ____ from school. Jacqueline has been in an accident, has cut open her head and is bleeding pretty badly. She needs you."

Holy crap! There is nothing that compares to the intensity of emotions that a parent feels when their child has been hurt, or is ill.

Thank GOD my husband was home at the time... I think I would have had a heart attack, had he not been there! We woke our son up form his nap (which is always a lovely experience!), stuck him in his car seat, and drove like he** to get to her school at warp speed.

A little background: this is the THIRD time in a year and a half that this kid has split her head open!!! Unbelievable! I swear, anytime I hear a scream or a cry in a room full of children, I automatically assume that it's most likely my daughter!

Anyhow, ultimately, she's fine. This time, they were able to "glue" her. Good thing - I'm sure I would have passed out if I had to watch the whole needle into her forehead and stitches thing again! Not my strong suit!

Some 'funny' things happened during this little adventure with her yesterday.

First, it was her third time at this emergency clinic... and her fourth time at any doctor's office or clinic since birth. She's almost 6.

She was at a family doc we personally know when she was one. We took her in to confirm that she had Rubella... and wanted a 2nd opinion about whether or not we should proceed with our plans to travel to a seminar the following day. He confirmed that it was indeed Rubella... "most likely contracted by exposure to another child who had been recently vaccinated". He agreed with us that she was absolutely fine to travel, as the virus was already passing through her system quite efficiently. No treatment of any sort - more like a visit with a trusted friend.

Interesting, he also commented on how lucky she was to have contracted this... "Now she's immune for life... easy! 3 days from beginning to end for the virus to pass through the body, then you're done! I don't know we vaccinate for this."

So, when we started this little parade of head injury trips to the emergency clinic, we had to deal with the shock, disbelief, disdain and disapproval of everyone involved in the process - from check in to consultation to examination and treatment to check out.

We just laugh now! We're used to it.

The dialogue usually goes something like this:

"Immunizations up to date?"
"No."
"Pardon?"
"No. She has no vaccinations." (The pen goes down, the head comes up. The look of confusion appears! The entire consultation comes to a screeching halt... and we're only 15 seconds into it... this is gonna' be interesting!)

"What, you don't believe in immunizations?"
"Oh, no. We believe vaccinations are real. We choose not to give them to our children."
"Do you care to explain?"
"No."

(Believe me, we could give you a 12 hour scientific dissertation reviewing and dissecting every shred of evidence and research pertaining to vaccines and their entire progression throughout history... but our daughter might bleed to death in the process! We're not trying to pick a fight here ... can we stop talking about this now???)

"Hmm... " (Head goes down. Writing begins.)
"Immunizations are very, very important you know."
"We've done our research and choose not to. We're here to have her injury treated, that's all."
"So, I suppose you don't want a tetanus shot for the open wound she has, either?" (not the most approving tone at this point.)
"No thank you. Just proper wound cleaning, then whatever she needs - stitches or glue."

"OK. What about previous medical history? Any problems?"
"No."
"What medications does she take?"
"None." (Suspicious eyes comes up from the paper again...)
"Any allergies to medications?"
"None that we know of. .. she's never taken any."

(They're now certain that we have stepped right off another planet!! Guess what? We feel the same!)

We add, "She's never needed any." (hoping to make the note taker feel better!)

... the interrogation goes on for awhile... we're pretty sure the note taker has pressed a secret button to have the police and child protective services come and take us away!!!

Fast forward to dismissal instructions. "If she asks for it, or looks mopey, give her Motrin." My daughter begins to question me... I 'shush' her and say "I'll tell you later."

Moments later, when we've been released, she asks, "What's Motrin?" I tell her. She says, "Why would I give my body drugs when it's already injured and working so hard to heal?" I say, "I'm sure there's a time and a place for Motrin honey... I just can't think of it off the top of my head." She asks if we even have any. Nope.

On our way out, we walked by the vending machine in the waiting room. My daughter turns to me and asks, "Mommy, isn't it mostly sick or injured people who come here?" I answer affirmatively. She astutley observes, "Then they shouldn't have all that junk here for those people to eat. How can their bodies heal properly if they're putting all that junk in?"

Well spoken, little Scar Face! I say, "Someday, when you rule the world, you can fix all that!"