Just the other day I read this absolutely beautiful post on the seemingly invincible parents by my blog twin Chantel at Life Unexpectedly. And yesterday, while cutting open the Christmas presents that have finally made their way through the German customs blockade, the knife I used (yes, I know, who does that?) slipped and caught my finger. The bleeding was quite strong, so I wrapped the finger up in a paper towel and looked for a band-aid. Such mended I continued open the boxes (with scissors this time) and started to sort them in piles, when suddenly, my blood pressure dropped, and so did I. When I got up again, blood was seeping through the band-aid. I can’t tell you how happy I was about the fact that the girls were sorting their Lego in Violet’s room and didn’t witness the scene in the living room… Once I was semi-stable back on my feet, I went back to the kitchen to change the band-aid. When I removed the bloody one, the wound in my finger gaped wide open. Almost shocked I put on another band-aid, which was soaked in a matter of seconds. At this point I called the girls and went downstairs to ask our neighbors for help. While the girls stayed there with H., A. took me to the hospital. At that point, I was stable enough to joke that I hoped that they would not just put on another band-aid and send me home again. Luckily, the ER was pretty quiet, so I was taken into the exam room immediately. Not an hour later I walked out with the wound having been glued and taped with butterfly stitches, and my left middle finger put in a splint to prevent the wound to tear open again. By the time I returned home, the girls were in bed already. They did comment on the dressing the next day, and obviously, Lily told kids in kindergarten that I had to go to the hospital, but besides that, they didn’t really seem to have perceived any danger from the situation.
I can’t tell you how glad I am that everything worked out the way it did. That they played in Violet’s room while I passed out. That they considered their stay at our neighbors’ more a treat than an emergency. That they went to bed easy when their Daddy picked them up. And last but not least that they consider my enormous middle finger more as something funny than something scary. I do get lots and lots of healing kisses on the finger, to make the finger get better soon, but all in all, the evening will not be carved in their memories as the evening when Mami became vulnerable.