This little buddy is just my heart's greatest joy. He really is....and when he is mad or sad or hurting I wish I could just take it all away from him and put it on me. Anything. Anything for that sweet cuddly smile. Last Saturday evening, Josiah stepped on a small bit of broken glass that we missed after cleaning up a broken casserole dish. He yelped and screamed and cried and bled. I treated his sore foot and we went to bed. Sunday he couldn't wear a shoe or stand on the foot so I carried him around all day because only mom will do when a little 2 year old is hurting....and he even asked for motrin about every 4 hours. This from the boy who hates medicine. Monday he could walk on tip toes without pain relief so we tried some home remedies.....I made a doctor appt and then cancelled it.....Tuesday he went to daycare and happily played.....on tip toes. Wednesday, the same. This morning he woke up and his bandage was still oozing blood and it looked dark and bruised and yucky so we went back in. I had a work day plus daycare kids scheduled today.....so a 9:30am appointment was awesome. Doc wanted an xray. We saw a little "foreign object" under his heel.....part of the pyrex dish.....and the doctor, who has been our family physician since I was a teen.....and is slowly reducing his hours to ease into retirement, said that he was willing to numb the foot and try to dig it out if I wanted but he really, really, really didn't want to traumatize Josiah with that. He would rather talk to the local surgeon and anesthesia who were in house today and see if they could do it. Would that be ok? Two waves flooded through my heart and mind. The first was relief. If I didn't have to hold down my screaming baby boy while a doctor dug around trying to get glass out of his foot, and instead he could take some happy juice and a quick nap and wake up fixed......well.....yes please! The second wave was more like......um. that sounds excessive and extravagant and we already have a big medical bill.....and is it overkill to call in a surgical team for glass in a foot that could eventually even work its way out without intervention? Then the third wave crashed in....the voice of reason....or practicality.....or desperation. It said, dear woman.....you cannot carry this child around for then next several weeks or months waiting for the glass to surface. The colder weather is coming. He cannot go barefoot to church or walmart or anywhere else much longer. And. It Hurts Him!!!!!!!!!!!!! Because his smile is so important to me, I told our doc to call the surgeon. We had to go home for 3 hours because he had had milk that morning......and come back at 2pm for the same day procedure. I had a house full of kids who were ready for lunch and a 2 year old who wasn't supposed to eat or drink til 2pm. I cancelled my visits. I called my mom. I took a deep breath and gave up today being a work day or a play day with my houseful of kiddos. And yes. We went to Walmart. While the rest of the house ate lunch with the help of Nana Barb. We made it thru the "foreign body removal" procedure and came home to a houseful of kids who were glad Joe was ok.....and then laughed at his funny half-drugged behavior. Tonight, at 11pm, he's still awake cuz anesthesia feels like a night's sleep I think......but his body is healing and he has 2 new pairs of walmart sneakers to wear tomorrow that light up and have super heros on them......because this brave boy got his foot fixed today.
Two Turtle Doves
December 15. This morning I was driving to a meeting and thinking about generosity. I had just finished filling my car with gas because it always seems to be empty these days as I travel around the county for work....and gas prices continue to go up so I am either filling my gas tank or paying the gas bill. I remembered a time long ago, when I stood at a gas tank in California on a Sunday morning. I was dressed for work and on my way to my job at a department store. I needed gas to make it the rest of the way so I stopped but found out I didn't have any money to pay for the gas. Back then, in the 1990s, you could pump your gas before you paid for it, even in southern California. I was flustered, panicked and overwhelmed. Someone noticed. Someone generous noticed and paid for my gas. I remembered telling him if he wrote down his name and number I would pay him back but he said no thanks, it was fine, he would just help me ...
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