Hooligan Zoo

Two Zookeepers… many Hooligans… It's always feeding time at this zoo!


on August 16, 2005

Wanna know how my day went today?  Do ya?

Well, all was looking good this morning…  hauled out the bike to go to the wading pool.  Hooked it all up, made the lunches, found the swimsuits AND the sunscreen.  Good good.

Get to the wading pool just as they were filling it up, which is right when I like to get there.  Splashed around for about 7 minutes, then Ephraim promptly fell and cut his chin on the edge of the wading pool.

Deep.  Lots of blood and lots of wailing.

Now, I handle blood and scrapes and such pretty well.  The lifeguard at the wading pool had a first aid kit, and that was all good.  But it was looking pretty deep… kind of gaping, if you know what I mean.  So, I borrow the lovely lifeguard's phone and call Ja to come and take us to Emerg.

Maybe it should be called EVILerg? 

Thankfully, they took us even though Ephraim's health card is in my purse which currently resides in Stockdale (long story.  Don't ask.  Might cry.)

Ephraim and I wait.  And wait.  And wait.  And then, wahoo!  The crankiest nurse ever says, “Let me see the cut,” and sticks us in one of those little curtained rooms.  Nice.  Me and a two year old in a little curtained room.  There was crying and complaining, and wanting to leave, and where's the damn doctor already… and Ephraim wasn't happy either.

So, the crankiest, snarkiest nurse ever comes by with the doctor points at us as if we are some kind of pond scum and says, “THERE'S the little boy.” 

The doctor comes in, pokes the gaping wound, and says, “Needs a stitch.  Pretty ragged..” 

Cranky nurse glares at us and says something about getting something…  blah blah blah.  Glare glare glare.  I'm still holding my very tired past nap no lunch 2 year old.  She stalks by muttering something about walking and wheelchairs, and then comes at us with this gauze on a bandage, basically hammers it on Ephraim's fighting screaming chin, and says to me, “This is always easier when they're lieing down.”  Really??  Interesting.  Except that not one person has spoken a word to ME, the MOTHER or to EPHRAIM the PATIENT since we saw the very friendly triage nurse five years ago.  She snarls at me to come back and find her in half an hour, and Eph and I were released.  Not knowing what was going on… with nowhere to go…

Half an hour goes by, we come back, after looking at ambulances, staying away from the scary coughing guy in the face mask, and avoiding other scary looking sick people who are standing around smoking.  A very nice nurse puts us in the suture room (I guess that's what it was…) and tells us it'll still be a little bit, there are others in front of us, but now we have a spot, so it should be good.

Now comes more fighting with the two year old who is even more unimpressed with this room.  Fighting, fighting…  and more fighting.  Until finally he passes out and falls asleep on my lap. 




Another 5 years go by, my butt is now asleep, my arm is starting to spasm, and here comes cranky nurse, ripping the paper off the bed and tossing a white sheet on there.  A NEW doctor comes in too, and the nurse snarls at me that we have to swaddle Eph.  Ephraim is already crying because these cranky people have come into the room, no one has said one word to him, and I'm trying to explain to him that the nice doctor is going to fix his owie chin for him… humming those nonsense momma things that momma's hum…  that kind of thing.

We swaddle my screaming boy, and I am trying my damnedest not to cry or punch either the doctor or the nurse (preferrably the nurse) smack in the back of the head.  The nurse mentions to the doctor that maybe he should take a peak at the wound before doing anything, you know.  Just a thought before getting out the scissors and needles and stuff. 

The doctor looks, and says, “Oh, I think we can just glue that.” 

Cranky nurse glares at me (because my medical degree is obvious) and says, “I thought so.”

Now comes the holding down of Ephraim, not to mention me bumping heads with the doctor.  Still no one has explained to me what's going on.  Screaming and Screaming and a very ticked off little boy… and me trying really hard to keep it together.

Doctor says, “done.”  Cranky nurse leaves… with my baby still wrapped up in this sheet.  No one tells me I can pick him up or anything, but I did anyways.  He finally explains to me that they used this stuff like crazy glue on it, and to keep it clean, keep him out of unclean water, etc…  and that's it.

I could not believe how horrible I felt with this nurse there.  And the fact that not one person said anything to me the whole time.  Except at the very end.  For all I knew, they wanted to amputate the poor kid's head or something.

Next time, and because I know my son, I know there will be a next time, I will be driving the fourty odd minutes to the Lindsay hospital.


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