That's what I was debating over the phone as I listened to a voice mail message from my hubby (my cell had died at work on Friday) that Jennifer had fallen down a flight of stairs at school, could I call the doc for an appointment?
Sooo, does this mean, broken (fill in the blank), a concussion, bruised or simply scratched up?
Called back to find out that she'd fallen up some bleachers (had her hands full of volley ball stuff) and couldn't catch herself. So she'd fallen on her ear. No bleeding out of said ear, but it looked pretty bad.
In the end, we decided NOT to wait the mandatory 6 hours in the ER to be told to go put it on ice. And it turned out okay. But I did note that we didn't have to talk too hard to get her to ditch the school dance on Friday.
I was grateful, in a dirty little secret sort of way, that my cell had died. Since it didn't turn out to be anything serious, and I got the message after all the work stuff was essentially done, for once, it wasn't me that was dropping everything to play wonder woman. That was GAry's job on Friday.
No comments:
Post a Comment