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This is not a leisure or tourist entry, but I figured I should document the experience anyway. After work on Thursday, I decided to stop at the commissary and pick up some things we needed for dinner before heading over to the CDC to get the boys. Taking the boys to the grocery store is something that I try to avoid at all costs because I never know what side of these little "Jekyll and Hide" monsters will come out. Will Carson sit in the cart calmly and enjoy being pushed up and down the aisles? Or will he squirm, scream, and try his best to jump out when I'm not looking? Will Maddox be my little helper, stay close by, and help get the items from my list off the shelf? Or will he run and hide the first chance he gets, pull everything off the shelves, and slam dunk them with all of his force into my cart? As you can see, it is not a difficult choice when faced with taking them with me or leaving them at daycare 20 minutes longer so I can shop in peace.
Today, however, I felt very guilty about my decision. As soon as I walked into the daycare building, the man at the front desk said he had just got off the phone with my husband. I figured it was another courtesy call that they routinely do if your child is out of diapers or falls and gets a little bruise. He proceeded to tell me that Maddox had fallen and hit his head. Then he added that there was a lot of blood and my heart started to race. He told me that the assistant director was back there taking care of him, so I raced to the room. When I entered, all I could see was Maddox sitting dumb founded on a lady's lap and while his head was being covered in giant white gauze. He had dried blood on his face, hands, and shirt. I must say this was a traumatic sight for me, but I swalled the panic and stayed calm.
When I asked them what happened, the lady said she was helping another child at the time and she didn't see it. She just heard him crying and went over. Another child told her that he had fallen and hit his head on the bookshelf.
Okay, kids fall, it happens....especially with boys.
A few minutes later the director of the CDC came in. He had just finished watching the video (I'm so glad they have cameras in this place) and he didn't fall. Another child had picked up a long, wooden, cylinder that goes with their set of blocks and hit him on the head. Maybe the child had an urge to play baseball and Maddox's head looked like just the right size. Or maybe he/she was sword fighting decided to take him out. Who knows what goes on in the minds of 3 and 4 year olds.
I didn't bother to ask who it was or what they were going to do to the child. I knew they couldn't tell me that information due to confidentiality laws, anyway. At this point all I was concerned about was getting Maddox looked at by a doctor.
I had to carry him down the hallway because he refused to walk. With the way Maddox was clinging to me for dear life, I knew there was no way I could get both him and Carson to the car by myself. I stopped at the front desk and asked if they knew where my husband was coming from because he went out of town for work today. They had no idea, so I told them I was going to leave Carson here for my husband to get while I take care of Maddox. He asked if I was going straight to the hospital. I looked at the clock and it was almost 4:30. I would never get to the military clinic before it closed. They probably wouldn't see me anyway because I didn't have an appointment. Then I realized that Ben had my GPS and I had absolutely no idea how to get to any German hospitals!
When I got home I ran inside, got Maddox the popsicle he was begging for, grabbed the house phone, then went back to the car to call Ben (I lost the charger to my cell phone and it's been dead for weeks - I am sooo not prepared for an emergency). I called and called and every time it went to voice mail. After leaving a frantic and somewhat hysterical message on his phone that went something like "I can't believe you're not answering your phone! I have no idea where to go and you have the gps. You should have known this was going to happen!" I called the TriCare office (which is our insurance). They told me which emergency room was the closest and when I asked how to get there the lady told me to map quest it. Good idea! Why didn't I think of that?
I got Maddox out of the car, went inside, and started to map quest. At some point while I was doing this Ben walked in the door. It's about time. We packed a diaper bad, including snacks and drinks, went to get Carson, and headed to the hospital.
At this point we figured Maddox was pretty much fine. He was laughing and eating his snacks. The only time he cried was when I didn't give him his chips fast enough. As we were driving to the hospital I pictured what the scene would be like if Ben hadn't gotten home and I was trying to find this place by myself without the gps. I guarantee I would have gotten lost at least once and there would be a lot of crying, anger, and frustration (especially since I would have had no phone to call anyone for help.)
By the time we got to the hospital, Maddox was not only covered in dried blood, but graham cracker crumbs as well. His brother looked just as bad. I began looking in the diaper bag for some wipes so we could clean them off before we went inside, but I didn't find any. I forgot to pack them...unprepared again. Oh well.
The four of us trekked into the hospital and wandered around lost for a few minutes until someone finally showed us the way to the emergency room. I filled out paperwork while the boys jumped, yelled, and chased each other through the waiting room. Ben tried his best to keep the monsters at bay, but they overtook him. Thankfully the other injured people waiting with us were entertained instead of annoyed. I'm sure they were laughing at how the undisciplined Americans let their kids run wild in public. And who has two kids now-a-days? Only the crazy Americans. When I was done filling out the paperwork, Ben found a bathroom with some paper towels and we were able to clean the beasts up a little bit. Shortly after that we were called in to the office even though there were others there before us (probably because they wanted some peace and quiet back in the building).
There was a doctor who spoke English and I explained to him what happened. He said that Maddox just had a big bump and the cut was only through the first layer, so it wasn't too bad. The other doctor came in and put some glue on his head to keep the cut closed. They explained to me that he couldn't take a bath for 2 days because of the "yoo-hoo." What? Do you mean glue? Silly doctor, I thought, he got mixed up during translation. Yoo-hoo is a chocolate drink. They told us to keep an eye out for concussion symptoms and sent us on our way.
We left the hospital, satisfied with the kindness of the doctors and the short wait. We paid for our parking (they charge for everything here) and were on our way home. Maddox made a request for ice cream, but as soon as we got home he climbed onto the couch and fell asleep.
The next day I went in to work and told the story of the "yoo-hoo". It turns out Yoo-hoo is a type of glue that they use instead of stitches. Silly mommy, everyone knows that. I guess I need to get up to date on my medical terminology.
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