Wild Week - Part Two

The Broken Finger

....When all of a sudden my middle son started screaming, hollering, and doing some sort of war dance.  He had been jumping with his skateboard and bar on the front sidewalk.  Ah, ah, ugh, ugh, arrrr!  Seems he had fallen, but I could make no since out of his squalling to know what he had hit. 

He ran into the house and collapsed on the couch.  This kind of thing happens a lot in my house.  So I passed on by to get a drink of water before coming back to ask what was the matter.  Then I saw blood and a bent finger!  Broken finger!  The bone poking out was causing it to bleed.  Oh joy!

We live in a small interior city of Brazil.  No hospital.  There is a small emergency clinic.  They have no  x-ray machine.  Often they have no doctor for the day.  Frequently they don’t even have simple supplies.  What to do?  My dh was in the big city an hour away with the car!   That was sort of where I needed to go. 

I hunted for my phone and called a neighbor with a car first.  I’ve taken her to the hospital with sick children on numerous occasions and vice versa.  I asked her opinion of where to go, explained the situation and asked what she thought I should do.  Since it was already dark, she thought it best to have her husband take me.  I called my dh to let him know what was happening .  Got my other two boys all set to stay home.  I had not even started our supper yet.  So I had to get things out and ready for my oldest, 16 to take over.    I gave a few instructions, hunted for the right documents for identification, and searched for what cash I could find in the house.

My neighbor and I on the phone had concluded that the best and closest place to go was a semi-public hospital that specializes in accidents.  It took about an hour to arrive.  We couldn’t drive too fast because at night there are lots of wild donkeys out on the two laned highway.  We even saw two foxes and a few stray horses.

After we finally arrived and got registered, my son was seen by a doctor.  After an x-ray it was decided to take him back to the surgery room to open up the finger and that it would be set in place with steel wire.  And I was kindly informed we would have to spend the night since after the surgery my boy would be given antibiotics by IV.  I was slightly horrified by this prospect and complained some, but decided the best thing to do was go along and make the best of it.

I made more phone calls, bid my neighbor’s husband good night and good-bye, saw my son off to the operating room, and sat down to wait and pray.  Did I say I’d had no supper yet?    

Look for Part 3 a little later today or Monday!  I do my best to stay off-line on Sundays.