One of Those Days

We had one of those days today. Where everything seems to be just a little bit harder, take a little bit longer, and in general not go the way it should. It of course started with Brandon and I waking up at 7:30. Yes, 7:30. This wouldn't be so stressful, except we leave at 7:45 to get to school on time.  Things pretty much stayed at that same level of frantic energy all day.

But nothing prepared me for what waited for me at the end of the day. In the chaos of the morning, Micah showed us his hand. We had been watching a little bump on his hand for some time. We assumed that it was from a previous injury he had 3 years ago and that it was just flaring up. But today it officially looked infected.  We knew we had to go the doctor.

After two failed trips to drop off our Operation Shoeboxes, a much longer then anticipated Ikea trip, and relentless rain, I showed up at the doctor's with Micah.  He was not too keen on having a doctor look at his hand, and tried to convince me that it was doing better. I wasn't too worried. Again, I assumed, that the doctor would poke it with something sharp, a lot of puss would come out, and we would be good to go.  Of course, I was wrong.

Turns out a piece of rock would not stay in the hand for three years only to suddenly push it's way out. And, that red mark encircling the bump, that's not good.  But what to do? That was the question the doctor kept saying as she poked Micah's hand.  Finally, she got a little piece up and realized what was inside his hand.

A piece of glass. How long had it been there, um, maybe 3 months.  This of course began what will forever be known as the worst doctor's visit ever (although, I probably just jinxed myself).  Three adults, including myself, had to hold Micah down. His screams could be heard through the entire office and caused another doctor to finally come in and ask if they could help.  We tried numbing cream, but that only worked on the surface.  Then the doctor said we would have to do a shot. At that point, Micah became unglued.  I never knew how strong he was, and loud to be honest, until tonight.  At one point he was shouting, "LET GO OF MY LEG, I'M SWEATING!!" and the doctor replied, "I think we are all sweating".  Finally after nearly an hour the doctor pulled out this little (and yet large) pyramid shaped piece of glass. A cheer went up from all of us.

I looked and Micah and said, whatever you want to eat, you've got it.  And of course Micah said, without taking a beat, "Blue C Sushi".  And of course we went.

On the way there, Jack said, "if I ever have something cut out of my hand, I'm choosing Mexican." Good plan, because a margarita sounds pretty good right about now. Hopefully, we won't need to have anything cut out of anyone's hand for some time.