Have you ever felt like some things just happened to you? Or have said "this only happens to me?" Not the good things, but the odd things? Well, last night was a perfect example of why I sometimes say "only me!".
My hubby is away so bath time was mine!! A treat for me as he likes to do baths when he is here or just thinks he does a better job. HA. I decided to give Sloane a treat which is a shower. She likes to let the water drip down her back like a spa!! LOL We cover the drain with a towel and have some fun. Once bath time was over, I wrapped Sloane in her towel.
And here is where it all starts..........My friend, who was visiting, said "is that blood?" Sure enough the towel had blood on it. I was not sure where the blood came from until I laid Sloane down on the changing table. Her index finger was bleeding and by this point she was screaming bloody murder. It was clear that she had cut herself and was in pain. I assume that her finger went into one of the holes in the drain out of curiosity as I was exiting her out of the tub.
I try to hold pressure on the cut with the towel but Sloane will not have it! She is completely out of control. If you have seen her at a drs. office, it was those antics times 100. My friend tried to calm her down and put pressure on cut as well, but Sloane was not having it for more than 2 seconds. She was failing around and blood was flying everywhere. At this point, we both are a bit nervous because the cut will not stop bleeding and seems to be bleeding more heavily. Neither of us could get a real good look at the cut so I have no idea what we are dealing with. My friend is now cuddling Sloane in her rocker trying to relax her because at this point she is crying so hard that she is choking on her own aspirations of saliva.
My friend looks a bit pale, but very composed. I am a bit beyond nervous. Sloane's face and arms are covered in blood as are our shirts. My friend, who was just worried when she got one drop of balsamic vinegar on my sweatpants, now has quarter size plops of blood all over my white tee-shirt. I decided to call my MIL to see if she is home. She lives around the corner but isn't home. Once she answers her cell, she listens calmly to my description of the scene and says call 911. Let them come and see if she needs a stitch she says. Almost simultaneously, my friend says "Tarra, I think this is pretty deep." I pick up the phone and dail 911, give my info and then call ti-ti who is down the street having dinner and rationally state: Sloane is bleeding, it wont stop, I called 911, please come. I dont mention it was Sloane's finger. I figure she is a seasoned mom of 2 grown once upon a time hockey players and will make sense of what is happening and gain some order. We are 15 mins. into this experience and Sloane looks like she has gotten into a fight and hasn't calmed down at all. The sight of the blood is not helping either. And so we wait for the emts and titi and I pray PLEASE NO STITCHES!!!
The fire trucks, rescue and police arrive. The scene basically screams out RED ALERT to those passing by. I meet them at the door and give a quick description as to what happened and ask only for one of them to go in her room because I know she will escalate even more when a stranger tries to touch her. Ti-ti arrives seconds later and does seem calm initially but when she sees Sloane and her bloody appearance....she tears up and begins to look concerned as well. By the look of Sloane's face, you would not have known it was her finger. As the EMT tries to take a look at Sloane. Tries being the word here. She basically became violent with him! I decide to hand her over to ti-ti to see if she calms down at all. At this point, ti-ti knows it is her finger. While this transition happens, the police officer asks to speak me. He states that he is here to make sure nothing suspicious is going on...I assume abuse. We go over the story, I walk him into our bathroom, and off he goes. Don't let the door hit you on your way out!!!
Back to Sloane's bedroom. Still screams, still bleeding but it has slowed some. There are 6 firefighters/emts in my kitchen waiting for a plan. The one, who is tending to Sloane, states that there will be no need for a stitch. AMEN!!! The bleeding subsides. We got a great explanation about the capillaries in fingers and how they cause excessive bleeding. I sign some paperwork and the entourage starts leaving. We wash Sloane's unattractive war paint off. Sloane perks up a bit and says "bye" to each of them as her index finger sticks up in the air. I hope that isnt foreshadowing as to what is to come. My MIL walks in and aside from the looks on our faces and bloodstained shirts, all looks normal.
Once Sloane falls asleep, I call my hubby across the country and tell him about our evening's events. It is a quick convo. He is a man that runs on facts, not flowerly details. He knows Sloane is fine, so he is fine. A few minutes later I get a text that says:
2 things.
1. i miss you both very much.
2. now i need to change the drain in the shower.
I laugh. That is my hubby. No drama.
I, on the other hand, had enough drama for the year! I collapse into bed and Sloane sleeps thru the night without any bleeding. She wakes up and within minutes rips off her band aid because her injured finger is her swiping finger on the iphone! Sloane is a techy and she is pissed that she cant watch videos of herself. She also happens to be a narcissist. I am thrilled the band aid is off because I finally get a good look at this cut/gash/gouge/ and I can not believe a cut this size caused this much blood as well as such a scene. I do not think anyone will believe the amount of blood, the intensity of the scene or how it all played out. I am thankful I have witnesses!! Sloane, as per usual, bounces back in a flash and I am once again saying "only me".
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