You scratched your what?

Tuesdays are typically a crazy busy day - with piano lessons and soccer practice. And yesterday I had to teach both an afternoon and evening class. And I had to finish up the school newspaper.

Crazy busy.

The kids got home from school at the normal time. They ate their snack. Did their homework. S. practiced her piano pieces and then had a little time before she needed to go, so she and E. stepped outside to jump on the trampoline.

Now, I know, trampolines are dangerous. I've heard all the statistics. Blah blah blah. But I'm telling you, this story has little to do with the trampoline. It just happened to be where they were.

They weren't jumping.

They were wrestling. (After all, E.'s got to practice his moves.)

I didn't see it, but as I understand it, E. came from behind at one point and was trying to grab S. by the shoulders to pull her backward. Instead of grabbing her shoulder, he grabbed her eye.

Don't ask me...

All I know is that S. was outside screaming bloody murder.

I ran out, more concerned with quieting her down so the neighbors don't shake their heads in wonder at the crazy parents who've allowed a dangerous trampoline in their backyard than with the possibility of any kind of real injury.

But she didn't stop screaming. And I mean really really screaming.

I could see a little scratch on the corner of her eye. I try to get her to calm down enough to tell me if it's the scratch or the eyeball that's hurting. Over and over again she screams "My eyeball! My eyeball!"

Oh dear.

I yell inside for K. to get ready to go to piano lessons, since S. was supposed to go first and he would need to take her spot. And I tell E. to get his shoes on. And I slip S.'s crocs on her feet. And off we go to the ER. (I called my doc and since they don't have the right opthamological equipment, they referred us to the peds ER.)

Fortunately, Asia was able to meet me there and take E. home, while S. and I settled in with all the lovely sick people in the ER waiting room.

The good thing about the peds ER yesterday was that S. was the only child waiting to be seen. You should have seen the dirty looks we got when her name was called just 3 minutes after we arrived - before all the people who looked like they'd been sitting there waiting to hear their names for at the very least, three days.

After some Novocaine, which deadened the pain and allowed her to open it, and some cool eye drops that under a black light made her eye glow fluorescent green, it was determined that she has a corneal abrasion. A scratch on her eye. A scrip for Tylenol with Codeine for the pain and some gooey eye ointment antibiotic stuff, and we were on our way.

E. felt absolutely terrible about the whole thing. He was so worried about his sis.
S. had planned to go in the house and tell him (in typical, mean big sister fashion) that she was going blind. But instead, she came through the door and her little brother handed her this and said, "I made this for you, S., to help you feel better..."

And of course, all S. could do was give him a hug and tell him she was okay.

All's well that ends well, right?
I'm just thankful nobody fell off the tramp and broke their neck.
'Cause that would have been really bad.