Thursday evening the kids and I went down to Tater's Farmette to have birthday cake for TotOne's birthday.
While we were there Abby stepped on something and got a couple of splinters in her foot. Being a normal parent (relatively so) I did what any normal parent would do - I got a needle and tried to get them out. I got one, but the other was in just too durn deep. So after making her cry I decided to leave it alone. Then Friday evening it was still bothering her, so Mom took the needle and tried to get it out. She couldn't get it either. I put some drawing salve on it and put her to bed. Within 30 minutes she was crying that it hurt worse and she couldn't sleep. I gave her some Motrin and put her back to bed, thinking she was just tired.
Saturday morning we got up and around and started getting ready to leave for Branson. She said it was sore, but not too bad. She seemed fine to me - a little whiny, but she's always nervous before we travel.
We drove on in to Branson, got our motel room and then headed over to Celebration City. Abby was walking on her toes, but I figured it was because her heel was sore. It certainly wasn't enough to keep her from going bezerkers out of sheer glee at the amusement park and enjoying the sweltering 100 degree temps like the rest of us.
Vacation isn't complete without a gigantic pink feline and some talking mutant vegetables. (If you look closely, you can see she's favoring that right foot in the pictures.)
We left the amusement park a little before 10 that night and went back to the motel for a swim. You know how much I
We put three very exhausted kids to bed around midnight and then we collapsed into a dehydrated sleep on a horrible motel bed.
The next morning we stumbled to the breakfast room of the motel and Abby said, "Mom, you're gonna wanna take a look at my foot," and started to stick it up on the table. I nearly spit donut all over the table as I hissed, "Git yore foot offa that table, girl! No one wants to see your ol' foot at breakfast!" I told her I'd take a look at it back up in the room. I had no idea what awaited me in that motel room.
And trust me when I say, that picture just doesn't do it justice. It looked so much worse in person.
I called Mom and we all agreed to try to carry on with the day's plans and if it got to where Abby couldn't walk, she'd bring Sam and Kady on home later and Mr. Diva and I could take her to the ER at home. We had plans to build bears and eat incredibly incredible pizza in Springfield for Addison's birthday, dammit! Of course, by this time Abby was bawling that she'd ruined vacation and such. So Mr. Diva was consoling her. He said, "We'll just keep an eye on it. We don't want to let it get away from us and you end up with red streaks running up your leg. That would be bad. " Her eyes got big as saucers and I swear every drop of blood drained from her face. She whispered, "Like these?" Oh yes. There were streaks starting up her leg. I was so busy looking at the actual goriness of the abcess that I hadn't paid any attention to her ankle.
I placed a call to DivaDad, the family RN, who said, "Either take her to Urgent Care in Branson or head home and take her to the ER in town. Either way, she needs to be seen today." Well, imagine the tears from the child then. After promises to let her listen to my MP3 player AND the promise of just her and me going to see Nacho Libre this weekend, we managed to calm her down some. Not all the way, but some.
We packed up, checked out and headed across town to the hospital where we waited. And waited. Finally she was called back where they took her vitals, history and then told us they were backed up and to go back and wait. It was reminiscent of the indian clinic. We waited another 20 minutes or so and then they called us back again. She said there was one ahead of us and the doctor would be right in. We waited 45 minutes in that room. I can probably tell you everything there is to know about planting azaleas in the South and which restaurants to visit when you vacation in Tennessee. Back issues of Southern Living are life-saving sometimes.
When the doctor finally came into the room he asked a few questions, grunted at my answers, tsk'd at me when I said I'd tried to get the splinter out with a needle, then mumbled that it needed to be lanced, drained, and cultured. Abby began with the panicking again. He moved us to the procedure room and then took his sweet time getting ready, which of course, gave Abby time to panic more. My gosh, she needs some Junior Strength Paxil or something.
When I told him that I'd put drawing salve on it he went off, griping and bitching about it being a waste of time and money, it caused more problems than it solved, etc. He wasn' t making me happy. He wouldn't like me when I'm angry. He even got the little aide guy in on the griping. Grr.
Anyway, nearly 3 hours after we first arrived, we left Skaggs Hospital Urgent Care Plus in good ol' Branson, MO. We didn't see Hillbilly Mom's Dolly, but we did get a bandaid and a prescription. And I can help you plant your azaleas.
If you live in the South.