Our latest jaunt to the ER

So I can't write about the part that I wasn't there for. I will start with earlier in the day, because for some reason, I guess the first time I wasn't there in an emergency, I feel like I need to justify why. We took the boys to get their "first-day" new clothes. It took hours, thanks to Jacob who is pickier and more fashion conscience than any of our girls. When we got home, we dropped them off, and had to bring Kyley to the barn. She had a rodeo the night before, which, by the way, Montana messed up in, broke the pattern, and she was disqualified. Anyway, she had to go to the barn to put her stuff away. Then we had to go to the shop and get everything ready for Rick to not go to work the next day. He took a day off to do some wedding stuff with me. Then, we went to the grocery store. So we get home, and Rainia is outside in her new school clothes. I was mad, but didn't even have time to deal with it, because I hear that Grand-ma took Josh to the ER.

I freaked out, ran to grab the insurance info, and we drive quickly to little town hospital. They tell us what room he is in, and we find him. When we walked in, Josh was in the bed with his little knee peeking out of a sterile cover, and the dr. is sewing him up with a very thick curved needle. Grand-ma and Brooke are standing there watching, and the dr. has to keep telling Josh to move his little hands, because he is sitting up, and trying to help. Josh is in a great mood, and tells us that he was "wunnin weawwy, weawwy fast. Supa fast. As fast as I could. Then I twied to jump on ma window, and I fell on a big, pointy wock."

So I asked to clarify, "Did you just say that you jumped out of your window?"

"No" he says, "I was twyin to jump IN da window. An I fell, on a big pointy wock."

The dr. is laughing, and keeps telling us how cute Josh is, and how he didn't cry or anything. And keeps telling Josh to move his hands, because for some reason, he wants to help sew his own leg up. Then the dr. tells Brooke to sit down. I hadn't noticed, but sure enough, I look, and Brooke is white, almost green, and doesn't look so well.

Brooke and my Mom leave the room, and a few minutes later, we see Brooke roll by in a wheelchair, pushed quickly by a nurse. A minute later, a nurse runs in and says, "Mom, your daughter just passed out cold and threw-up all over herself. We need your help in here." So I run in, and Brooke is admitted in another room, and is covered with vomit. Literally covered. It is in her hair, on her glasses, covering her chest and lap, and between her toes. Covered. They explain that she passed out and then vomited. She acts like she doesn't really know where she is, or what happened. "Is Josh OK?" she says.

"Josh is fine, but you're not." I tell her. The nurse actually CUTS Brooke's clothes off of her, because of the amount of vomit they are covered in. They bring me towels to wash her up, and she doesn't know what is going on, or why she is covered in vomit. I am trying to hold back my own vomit as I am washing the threw-up out of every nook and cranny on her body. My mom comes in and explains that Brooke threw-up all over HER, and she was washing herself up in the bathroom. She is very concerned, and says that she thought Brooke actually had a seizure, not just fainted, because of the way her eyes rolled back in her head, and her body was jerking.

My mom and I finish washing Brooke up, and I put one hospital-gown on her, front-to-back, and then another, back-to-front, so that she is completely covered. The dr. comes in to check on Brooke. She finally understands that she passed-out, but doesn't know why, because she explains how she did so good helping Josh, and actually even leaned over him in the room while he got his numbing shot so that he didn't see the needle. She explains that if she was going to pass-out, it should have been when the skin on his knee was hanging off, and they actually folded it back to scrub inside of it. The nurse suggests that she was to busy being strong for Josh, and when the parents got there she could finally relax, and that was when the adrenaline hit her.

My mom takes Brooke home, and I go back into Josh's. Rick is sitting with him, repeatedly telling him to keep his leg down, and his hands away from his knee. We leave there with an anti-biotic, a very tough little boy, and the knowledge that med. school or nursing are absolutely not in Brooke's future.

Josh's knee = 7 strong stitches