Injuries

Write your injuries in dust, your benefits in marble.

~ Ben Franklin

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My mom's birthday is today.  She is a nurse.  I remember people coming to our door at all times of the day and evening with their wounded children in tow and they would open with "I'm sorry to bother you but..." and then would give some abbreviated version of why they had come over.  "He fell off his bike."  "She got bit by our cat."  "They were jumping on the trampoline and knocked their heads together."  "Does this look broken to you?"  "I think she ate this whole bottle of stuff."

 

They always asked what they should do.  Usually, somewhere along the line the question, "Do you think we should go to the hospital?" would be asked.  My mom would almost always say, "Well, it wouldn't hurt to have someone take a look just to make sure."

 

However, when it came to her own children, most things were solved with a butterfly bandage.  I never had any stitches.  There were some times maybe I needed them.  I got a butterfly bandage.  And maybe a baby aspirin. 

 

Erik went to the hospital a lot.  He was always crashing his bike (or running and crashing his face) into things.  Or eating things he shouldn't.  Or breaking his arms - usually wihtout my assistance.  Or getting stung.

 

One time he was playing around this side gate we had - one we never really used.  It had a rusty lock on it and some wire securing it closed.  It also had a wasp's nest.  I guess my parents put that there to keep out intruders.  He got stung.  A lot. 

 

I don't remember if he went to the hospital that time or not.  I think not. 

 

I probably went someplace quiet to try and concentrate on whatever I was creating.  I'm sure his crying was loud and annoying.

 

He's mostly fine now.

 

Wow.  Wouldn't it be ironic if he was covered in butterfly band-aids after wasp stings?  That's like two kinds of insects.  And also, I don't think butterfly band-aids would do much to help wasp stings.  But then, I'm no nurse.