Monday, August 17, 2009

I Scream, You Scream!

It was 1984, a little plastic record player, and one of the Disney princess records playing. Not a black vinyl one, but do you remember the records that had a picture imbedded under the plastic music? So I would have been about four when Aimee and I were twirling full speed and I careened my head (that was obviously not being used for anything better at the moment) into the corner of Aimee’s wooden bed frame.

Another time was racing down the hallway with a plastic Breyer horse which, after I fell down, was missing an ear and my face had acquired another one in my chin. Among other stories.

Sure they aren’t great stories, but at least their stories! Poor Russell was just standing there! Serious. STANDING. I mean I knew the kid was going to have a lot of injuries, but standing? Since now I can add the category of ‘behaving’ to my list of things to worry about, you can go ahead and consider my brain fried and my life over!


After hours and days of death defying riotous fun and adventures with his cousins, I was packing up the diaper bag and looked down at Russell standing beside me as WHOOSH! What the?! He slipped and bashed his head and was lying on the ground before I could even exhale. Holy crap, is he bleeding?! Ugh, the sound of the crunch... days later the memory will still shoot blood from my toes up into my ears like setting fire to a trail of gunpowder.

Sometimes it’s not until hours, and six stitches later, when you finally get home and get your pint sized hero safely tucked away in his cowboy covers, that you are able to glance at yourself in the mirror. Going going going and suddenly I am frozen looking at my reflection, and my own pale face hovering above a blood stained shirt.

I like being a mom, I like that I don’t realize it when my kids vomit or pee or bleed on me until after I know they’re okay. I like that being a mom keeps me honest. I like that the doctor and nurses tried and tried but were very unsuccessful at getting me to leave when he was going to be getting his stitches. Ok, wait, I’m going to get my ladder…

…and climb on my soap box…

Listen up people. There are times in life to have manners. To be easy to get along with, to just walk away from someone who is being aggressive or bossy, and to worry about the feelings of the people you are dealing with. Hospitals are not one of these places. Period. For the record, I think there are nurses out there who are angels without wings traveling among us mere mortals, but there are also a lot of other people at the hospital at the same time as you. I have learned that health professionals do not take the things patients say and do personally, so as a patient I no longer take what they say personally either.


As Doctor Oz would say I am the worlds expert on my body, the ins and outs and all arounds, and while I cannot perform heart surgery, I am the expert on Russell as a whole person. The end. If you’ve never experienced it, the pressure of someone who’s wearing a lab coat is daunting, but that is why I am grateful for all the trial runs with Russell and Alice that are teaching me when to defer to someone else's wisdom and when to dig in my heels. When is that? Well, people, it’s when you feel it in your gut. Don’t make their jobs more difficult because you’re stressed out, but push the issue and don’t believe everything you’re told. Think about it, then, you know, the gut thing.

…hold the ladder, I’m coming down…


To wrap up this post, all week I have been writing a totally different post in my rattled brains about visiting with our cousins the Hickmans (see here, here and here) because for all my ranting about Russell in school, I have been so proud of him all week. Mostly :) They are certainly wild and A LOT, but Russell was absolutely BANANA’S about baby cousin Sylvie and romantic with Aunt Aimee and just generally a pretty friendly guy.

I mean, I know he’s the nicest guy on earth but sometimes he forgets to show it in the overwhelming school environment.

For example (at the hospital)…

He had just been swaddled in a sturdy blanket and was surrounded and being held down by four adult strangers after the first attempt to wrap him in a sheet and make him lie still was traumatically unsuccessful (I told them he was stronger than the average boy but they didn’t believe me until he ripped through the first flimsy sheet they brought). He was terrified and upset and suddenly one of those angels without wings kind of nurses who was holding his legs asked him if that was his baby sister she saw earlier. At full volume in total despair he cried “YEEEEeeeessss!” Since he had responded she asked him what her name was to which he replied with great big tears streaming down his cheeks “She’s is Alice! And she is SO FUNNY!!”

Kinda knocked the wind out of me in that moment when the world seemed pretty grim and brown all over. As he told the nurse about Alice he got calmer and calmer until they were discussing ‘her’ favorite color and the things ‘she’ likes to eat. I did not know he had so many opinions about her favorite things. He told the nurse about his cousins and baby Sylvie, he talked about swimming and his friends at school and before we knew it he was all done and he got up and wrapped himself around me like a giant starfish.

See what I mean? Pretty nice guy :)


That’s all for now. Oh, and I’d like a separate VIP/frequent flyer entrance to the ER now since I am pretty sure that, in the next 16-18 years of Russell's life, will be able to fund at least one new wing of the hospital.

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Erin said...

You're a champ! I'm so glad that I'll have you to call when this sort of stuff is happening to me. And that is the most awesome ice cream I have ever seen. Totally worth a couple of stitches :)

Alissa Rae King said...

Gmail from Grandma Sylvia

Sweet, dear Alissa:

Just read your latest blog, and latest emergency ward trip. REALLY
made my heart beat fast, with heartful sympathy for our darling child.
Really LOVED the photo, however, of Alissa bending over her wounded
son, being the wonderful, caring mother that she is. And I am SO
proud of the fabulous mother you became. Would have loved having a
mother like you, who cared so much. Unfortunately, mine had too many other worries, and just had to work things out for myself. Oh, well.

Glad the Hickman visit went so well, otherwise. Sure missed them when they left. LOVE little Sylvia and baby Alice, along with my super great grandsons, and feel very blessed. Love them, and YOU, so very, very much. Keep Smiling!!!!!

Andrea said...

Poor little guy. Crazy the mountains they can climb and the cliffs they can jump off of, but its always that darn standing still. It will get them every time! How is he feeling now? (I am feeling sympathetic, but also hungry, that ice cream ROCKS!) Love you all.