Good Morning... (er... I so "hope" it is anyway)...
Some of you may have been vigilant enough here to have caught my blast yesterday afternoon. Others might not have, so no worries, (I can blog about darn near anything so I shall just blog about my ex~blast)! hehehe
Does anything happen with rhyme and reasoning attached to it? I think not. Having been so icky~sick with my wasp~stung hand/arm, (and nighty night with the danged benedryl), I did not accompany Miss Casey to the hospital. She was there Saturday night/Sunday morning; with intense pain all over again. She had to visit her primary doctor yesterday afternoon, and said she would call me as soon as she was through there.
Hindsight being 20/20, I should have packed up Master Gabriel and met her there.
But no~o~o~o, I figured that he would need his nap at almost the same time, and chose not to go along.
We played outside for a long time.
Hot as heck, but am afraid I/we are getting somewhat accustomed to the "bake and broil" temps around us.
.
.
.
.
.
Time to come inside or just croak out there, he played with his little blue ball at the bottom of the steps. He would bounce it off of them and go running after it; to the kitchen, or the bathroom or to the back room as well. The ball is actually a bit warped and doesn't roll straight to begin with. (Truth be known, I know people like that)...
I was in the kitchen, having gotten the ball for him at one point. I rolled it back to him... and at that point all hell broke loose.
Punk walked inbetween Gabriel and I. And Gabriel had turned at that exact moment as the ball had rolled past him. And then I am unclear of the details, only that my arms were not long enough, nor my body quick enough to react as I saw him toppling over, hard, and headed for the doorframe.
He caught the doorframe straight in the center of his forehead. A split second late I caught him... No skin had opened up, but a dark streak and an immediate goose egg too.
Then came the breath... This sharp intake... A lungful of air... And the wait for that scream too. (Seemed like a very long wait at the moment too). And out it came!! Punk headed back out to the entrance. (I really don't think she had ran into him, but am not sure either).
The crying didn't last too long, but after trying to check his pupils then I thought better to call Roberta at work. (I won't even get into the bs that they gave me just to get an emergency message to my daughter)... But she came out right away and brought him in to the ER. His xrays came back ok, and just the standard protocol then for possible concussion. Light on the foods, and to wake him every now and then if he seems to be sleeping too long. (What exactly, is "too long" for a child to sleep)? hehehe
Ok I really DO understand what they are saying there... But couldn't resist that one...
In the meanwhile, Casey had been at her own Dr. appointment. I will go back in with her this morning to see how she must self~inject digestion hormones... They are thinking this could be the problem with her pancreas now? I surely hope so. I just want it to be all over/done with for her. With each misdiagnosis,(?), and unsuccessful surgery, she gets just a little bit more bewildered, withdrawn, but still angry too. That 'anger' fuels her right on through the pain most days. She says "no way" can she even give herself the shots. I can do this for her, no problem. I just hope it helps is all.
She now has a formal diagnosis of "Chronic Pancreatitis"... Prayers please.
Time for me to fly. Gee, it seems as Miss Roberta did not believe me when I said I did not care to babysit any longer... hehehe And he is wiggling away to go play now. (I shall buy him a helmet and make him wear it, even to nap)!
Bad, bad Grandma that I am...
.
.
.
.
My friends, I hope your Monday was MUCH better than my own, and that you have a fabulous Tuesday as well!
XOXO
Anne
.
Free Hit Counter
