So, I'm all ready to blog about our day at Strasburg Railroad on Friday, and how we took Ben (and Aaron) to see Thomas the Tank Engine. I'm thinking about how it's great Ben is now identifying characters and has favorites. We are able to buy things for him now that he likes, like a coloring book with "Cars" on it, Thomas the Tank Engine mini trains (thanks Karin), Bob the Builder Videos, etc. When I was able to shop for the birthday party, it was cool. Taking Ben to see Thomas was fun. It's been fun mommy stuff...another notch on my "I feel like real mommy" belt. Fun events for Ben's childhood. Well, how's this for a "I feel like a real mommy" moment ... our first emergency room visit.
About 15 minutes after we got home, I took a couple of necklaces out of a container of jewelry cleaner. Ben grabbed the lidless container and before I could get it out of his hands, he shook it, sending cleaner all over his shirt, face, and in his eyes. I had J.R. rush Ben to the sink to spray cold water in his eyes and I called poison control. She told me to put Ben in the bath, dump water over his head into his face for 20 minutes and go to the Emergency Room. So, we did and of course Ben hated that. He was fine for the drive over to CHOP though, and for our surprisingly short wait in an extremely full waiting room. But if he was OK, would I have a story to tell? Of course not.
A doctor took a PH test by sticking a small piece of paper in each eye. We knew he wasn't going to like it, so in order to prepare him, two nurses wrapped him in a sheet like a cocoon. That probably scared him more than someone poking his eye. The PH test came back high so they had to flush his eyes. If you thought Ben hated the cocoon, he despised what happened next. No, I'm not sure despise is a harsh enough word. Anyway, they wrapped him back up in the sheet, placed him on a board and velcroed him into the board. Horrible. He's screaming, I'm praying, and Aaron is not happy either. Aaron finally decides to eat, so at least he's not screaming anymore, but I can't get up to be with Ben. That was a good thing, I guess, because since a nurse (there are now four in the room) is standing in front of me, I can't see the plastic contact lens type things go into Ben's eyes. The lenses are attached to tubes which are attached to IV bags which then empty out into Ben's eyes. He's screaming, I'm crying, and thankfully J.R. is able to stand next to Ben and talk to him the whole time. The nurse in front of me walks away and I can see the saline solution running out of Ben's eyes...into his nose, his mouth, his ears. (I'm thinking to myself "He's going to drown!") The longest 10 minutes of my life passes and the tubes are taken out of his eyes (thankfully the nurse came back in and blocked my view again). They test the PH level again and check for scratches to his eyes. My prayers are answered and he's fine. He doesn't have to go through any more trauma. A Child Life Specialist (counselor) came in and told us he's too young to remember this. Thank God! He may not remember, but I'll never forget the picture in my head.
Ben fell asleep on the ride home, and stayed with us in bed that night. He was fine the next day. I don't know if he remembers anything, and I don't want to bring it up. But I wonder if it taught him a lesson.
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