Premonitions
So I came home this evening and found the apartment empty. I figured Cook and Dutch had gone across the street to our friendly local co-op to buy an essential dinner ingredient. I poked around, tidying up, for bout 20 minutes. They didn't come home. I started to wonder where they might be. I remembered that both the front door and the apartment door had been unlocked when I came home, which is weird. I remembered that the bathroom cabinets had been opened and several items had been strewn on the floor (not that weird, given that we have a 3-year-old). I started to feel a little worried. I went out in the hall and looked around for clues. I saw that all of Dutch's shoes were still here. I started to freak out. I looked in the dining room and saw a note that I had written earlier was placed on top of a heap of other papers, and seemed to have been written over. I turned on the light. I read the note. This is what it said:
"Dutch broke ARM - gone to hospital."
I freaked out. I called the hospital. I finally located them and talked to Cook, who relieved me by explaining that Dutch had fallen off our bed while watching a movie (TV is DANGEROUS!!!!) and they were about to get x-rays. They had gotten a lucky ride from a friend who happened to be in the area and mobile when Cook called. I made my way to the hospital by agonizingly slow public transit, and found Dutch enjoying juice and crackers and a pile of stickers. She's pretty miserable, though. Turns out she broke her clavicle, not her arm, and doesn't even have a cast, but it HURTS. Also, it totally ruined Cook's plans and mine for studying for the next two days - we both have finals tomorrow and the day after - and completely traumatized us both. Dutch heaped extra suffering on Cook by informing him, moments after the fall, that it was HIS FAULT for not being in the room to help her. He was also anxious, particularly after the ER doctor inquired about Dutch's missing tooth, that the hospital might send a social worker to confiscate Dutch on grounds of neglect or abuse. (They didn't. Yet.)
Apparently, Dutch was pretty worried about what the doctor would do to her. She told Cook tearfully "I don't want to have a mechanical arm!" and he tried to reassure her that it was unlikely. That reminded me of the time my little brother broke his arm, and there was some concern that he might have damaged the "growth plates." Of course, we made lots of jokes about how he'd have one teeny little Tyrannosaurus-type arm. I don't think he thought that was anywhere near as funny as I did. So cruel...
Anyway, it was awful. Seeing her little white (red-eyed) face when I came into the hospital room almost knocked me to the floor. I so wish it could be my clavicle. (But hey! A new vocabulary word for Dutch!)
"Dutch broke ARM - gone to hospital."
I freaked out. I called the hospital. I finally located them and talked to Cook, who relieved me by explaining that Dutch had fallen off our bed while watching a movie (TV is DANGEROUS!!!!) and they were about to get x-rays. They had gotten a lucky ride from a friend who happened to be in the area and mobile when Cook called. I made my way to the hospital by agonizingly slow public transit, and found Dutch enjoying juice and crackers and a pile of stickers. She's pretty miserable, though. Turns out she broke her clavicle, not her arm, and doesn't even have a cast, but it HURTS. Also, it totally ruined Cook's plans and mine for studying for the next two days - we both have finals tomorrow and the day after - and completely traumatized us both. Dutch heaped extra suffering on Cook by informing him, moments after the fall, that it was HIS FAULT for not being in the room to help her. He was also anxious, particularly after the ER doctor inquired about Dutch's missing tooth, that the hospital might send a social worker to confiscate Dutch on grounds of neglect or abuse. (They didn't. Yet.)
Apparently, Dutch was pretty worried about what the doctor would do to her. She told Cook tearfully "I don't want to have a mechanical arm!" and he tried to reassure her that it was unlikely. That reminded me of the time my little brother broke his arm, and there was some concern that he might have damaged the "growth plates." Of course, we made lots of jokes about how he'd have one teeny little Tyrannosaurus-type arm. I don't think he thought that was anywhere near as funny as I did. So cruel...
Anyway, it was awful. Seeing her little white (red-eyed) face when I came into the hospital room almost knocked me to the floor. I so wish it could be my clavicle. (But hey! A new vocabulary word for Dutch!)
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