Just Another Manic Monday

Yesterday was more than just a manic Monday. It was a totally stressful hot mess of a day that just couldn’t end fast enough for my taste. The day started out rather mundane, but a mid-morning call from the daycare director sent everything off kilter and the day tanked from there. When I answered my phone a little after 11 am and the daycare director started speaking, I knew it couldn’t be good news. I thought it was something with Chica Marie, but she was at school, so it couldn’t be her acting out. No, it was Love Bug. He wasn’t acting out, he was hurt. Apparently he had fallen on a chair and hit his mouth. The director wanted me to come look at his tooth because he wasn’t sure if it was as it should be. Oh good Lord! So, I leave work and drive the short drive to the daycare, fully expecting to declare Love Bug fine and recommend Tylenol and ice to sooth him. As I arrived at the daycare I saw the van for Chica Marie’s school sitting in the parking lot. I got her off the bus and walked her into the daycare, handed her off to her teacher and went to Love Bug’s room. He was being cradled in a new worker’s lap and other than some blood smeared across his face, he looked fine. I scooped him up and laid him on the changing table to check out his mouth. His gum was still bleeding but it was obvious his tooth was not as it should be. His teacher explained he had hit his mouth on a chair during a temper tantrum. The impact shove his remaining front tooth (because the other one he broke – see the full story here) up into his gum. My stomach churns just remembering it.

 

I left Love Bug with his teacher to call the dentist from my cell phone in the car. The dentist would see us at 12:30, which gave me time to go back to work with Love Bug and cancel my afternoon appointments. On my way back to work I called our CHOR case worker and the day supervisor leaving them messages explaining Love Bug was going to see the dentist after this accident and I suspected his tooth would need to be pulled and soon. This was the determination of the dentist, he sent us to an oral surgeon 30 minutes away because the tooth needed to come out; Love Bug was in pain and wouldn’t be able to eat until the tooth was removed. The poor little guy fell asleep in the car on the ride to the oral surgeon and it seemed like the pain finally hit him when I woke him up to carry him inside. From the moment we got into the office until the tooth was out, he howled. It was the trifecta of toddler don’t’ s: he was hungry because of course this happened right before lunch and no one wanted him eating so whatever surgery could be performed; he was tired because after lunch it is nap time and the 15-20 minute catnap in the car only reminded him how tired he was; and he was in pain, I’m guessing a great deal of pain, I mean can you imagine your tooth being shoved up into your gum to the point it’s almost coming out the top? Yeah, I’m sure that stung a little…..

 

We waited for what felt like hours. Thanks to my incessant phone calling, the CHOR case worker had already been queued up and ready to contact the county case worker. I texted a picture of the order the dentist gave me to the county case worker so she could get a court order. Fortunately, the county case worker found bio mom and had her call to give verbal consent. Bio mom asked to be informed of exactly what they would be doing to Love Bug, so after the oral surgeon proclaimed the tooth would be removed in the office, the nurses had to call and relay that to bio mom before the procedure could proceed. I spent that time trapped in a room with a very miserable Love Bug. He wanted me to hold him so he could sleep, but he was also hungry and kept pointing at my purse in hopes that lunch would pop out for him. And, since the pain wouldn’t let him sleep and my purse was not procuring food, he howled. I tried to stay calm, as I stood and swayed and tried desperately to make him comfortable.  I felt soggy because he spilled water on himself when he was with me at work plus he was drooling profusely, bleeding, sweating, and crying. I literally had his blood, sweat, and tears smeared all over my upper body. Add snot and drool to the list. My arms ached from holding him and patting his back. I had injured my toe over the weekend (my toe nail on my big toe is mostly torn off of my toe, it is swollen and painful and I will eventually lose the toe nail) and it was throbbing from all the swaying. Finally, it was time to go to another room for Love Bug to have the tooth out. The nurses had me sit him in the chair on two pillows as they quickly strapped the nitrous mask to his face. Love Bug fought it with all his might. His wailing dropped to a low moan and soon the doctor was numbing his gums and pulling the tooth out in one quick jerk. The nurse shoved a wad of gauze in his mouth and clamped the mask back on his face. It took three nurses and the doctor to get his tooth out. I was rather surprised they let me stay in the room, but as soon as they gave him enough oxygen to reverse the effects of the nitrous, they handed me a tired, bloody Love Bug. A kindly young nurse put a plastic bib over my shoulder to catch the blood, since Love Bug would not leave the gauze in his mouth. She then lead us to the packed waiting room for everyone to stare at the sight we made; the bib was spotted with bright red blood and Love Bug had smeared his face with his spit and blood. I tried to dab it away, but the newly made hole in his mouth just kept oozing more blood than I could dab away. We reached the van where I just opened the door to prop my good foot up and settle Love Bug on my knee. We stood there for some time, as the blood finally slowed and Love Bug was calm enough for me to strap him in his car seat for our 30 minute drive home. I was so tired, but our day wasn’t done yet!

 

We weren’t home long before Primero came home from school. He was surprised to see us home and wanted to know why I brought Love Bug home but not Chica Marie. I told him the story. We fed Love Bug some yogurt and then packed up the animals because I had made an appointment for the dog and two cats to see the vet about 6 weeks ago and wasn’t going to cancel the visit. We picked up Chica Marie at daycare and I took Love Bug in to see his teacher and tell her what happened. We then stopped at Sheetz gas station for dinner. I had wanted to go to the diner, but Primero didn’t want to leave the animals in the car. I should have just gone with my instincts. It was nearly impossible to corral Love Bug, since he didn’t want to be held anymore, having met his quota earlier in the afternoon. Chica Marie wasn’t listening, as usual. We ordered food and I thought getting a mac and cheese with meatballs would be good for the kids to eat. It turns out they put some sort of spicy sauce on top and ruined the whole thing and neither kid would be more than a few bites. Since we were eating more picnic style there weren’t any high chairs and Love Bug would not stay in a seat. I sent Primero to the car for his stroller and Primero found grapes we had forgotten in the car. That’s what the kids had for dinner. And a few chips. While we had been waiting for our food I felt like I was having a tampon malfunction, so once we were done eating I went to the bathroom to learn I bled through the tampon and needed to stick a pad on my ruined underwear. While we were picking out our drinks Love Bug stomped on my injured toe which was throbbing and we still had a 30 minute drive to the vet’s office. I was so tired and so done, but the day just wouldn’t give up.

 

My sweet Canela has been with me since she is 5 weeks old. A volunteer friend in a neighboring town had told me she knew of a litter of puppies and knew I wanted a dog. I told her I would come stay with her on my way home and look at the puppies. When I picked a puppy out of the litter I had initially chosen her sister, who was the only other puppy who was the same rusty redish brown as her, only with no white markings. Canela has a white T on her chest and white spots on three of her feet. I picked her out and then went home for a visit. When I arrived back at my friends village she told me the puppy I had picked out had been injured. According to the owner, a donkey had kicked or stepped on the puppy and so she offered me the sister who looked like her, since my puppy would most likely die. I was torn, but I knew I couldn’t afford to pay for costly vet bills and so I took the healthy sister. I named her Canela, which means Cinnamon in Spanish. And for 11 years she has been my constant companion. I paid a pretty penny to bring her home with me from Nicaragua, but it was worth every cent. She has loved me and been by my side through so many life events it is impossible to imagine her not being around. She is my Nica Princess, my Sweet Girl and I want her to live forever. Sadly, it just doesn’t work that way. Canela has a tumor on her front left leg. It just ballooned out of nowhere these past 6 weeks. The vet said the tumor is inoperable because it is too attached and would require taking her whole leg. She prescribed steroids and antibiotics to see if they can shrink the tumor. If they don’t work, the tumor will eventually kill my Canela. I truly hope and pray the medication works and her tumor is diminished. Canela is in excellent health besides this tumor, she is still full of vigor and spunk. She still runs around at the farm and in the back yard and she still loves going for walks. Canela has had a good life and she has been a truly wonderful companion. I’m just not ready for our journey to end, though I doubt I will ever be ready.