This morning started like so many. Well, not so many really. Jason was staying home from school again since he'd thrown up less than 24 hours before and Andy stayed home from work because I felt like I was coming down with whatever Jason had. Andy ran Micah to school and set the older two in front of the TV while he was gone.
Here is where it gets interesting. As I lay in my bed bemoaning the pain in my stomach, I heard Hannah yell, not one, but twice "JASON! You are NOT allowed to do that!" Obviously, something was afoot, so I went downstairs to investigate. What I found was a very guilty looking son, a triumphant daughter and a stack of toys in front of the wall unit DIRECTLY BELOW THE HALLOWEEN CANDY.
Not jury necessary, my son's face was proof enough.
Sent to his room until Daddy could get home, I reminded him that being mad Hannah or ratting him out was not the solution and returned to bed. Andy comes home, gets a retelling from both Hannah and me and heads into Jason's room. He aid the conversation was short and to the point, but it definitely covered the fact that he could have been seriously injured had the wall unit fallen.
It wasn't 5 minutes later that we heard a large THUMP! and the Jason start to cry. He hobbled out of him room, blood dripping from his toe. He'd taken the end off his big toe and from the looks of it, it wasn't something I could handle at home.
You see, when Jason is angry, he is either angry at the world or angry at himself. He's getting better and better at realizing that it's his choices that cause him troubles, but it's concerning to us how he handles it. Investigation of the incident showed that Jason had thrown away his trophies (a common action for him because he doesn't believe he's a good kid) and there was a spot in the middle of his floor dabbed with blood and a tiny stuffed basketball across the room. He'd tried to take his considerable anger out the toy, but missed. OUCH!
A quick call to the our pediatrician sends up to Urgent Care. This time the one at Children's since it opened at 8am. There we are told that they can't do stitches (WHAT?!?) and are sent on our merry way to the ER. The one place I ad been trying to avoid since I saw what he did.
Jason does not like ERs. Heck, I don't think anyone does, but he has some serious trauma associated with them. When he was 5, he severely injured his finger and nearly lost it. He was in shock and fine until he saw us walking up to the ER doors. Then he started screaming, grabbed my leg and begged saying. "I'll be good! Please! I'll be good! Don't send me away! PLEASE!"
Talk about heartbreak. He's obviously been there a few times with foster siblings during the 4 years he was in care. Children's is a primary hospital in the area for kids in the system as all of their services are covered by medicaid. He'd apparently seen a kid(s) go in and never come out. That's not uncommon, especially if there are psychiatric incidents and the foster parents feel it's too much. His home was licensed for 6 foster kids and from my understanding, lots of kids came and went there. Foster parents are, in general, awesome. But Jason's situation wasn't the best and a lot went on there that he still can't talk about since he so little. But the trauma of it all was lasting. Just this morning at the mention of a possible ER trip, he started to cry. Post traumatic stress is a powerful thing.
Jason, a week after he smashed his finger
Anyway, to the ER we went, although by the grace of God I just walked through the hospital to get there. He was calmer and entering a different way with me talking to him and reassuring him made a big difference.
The visit took nearly 4 hours. His foot was x-rayed, cleaned and stitched. I used our Nintendo DS to keep him still and occupied for the long waits. In the end he as a nasty laceration with 4 stitches in it. The process was long, painful and traumatic for us both. He cried like a infant when they numbed it and I had to force eye-contact to calm him down. He gets to wear a special shoe for a while until it heals enough to put in a shoe. There is, apparently, a coolness factor to that for 10 year old boy.
Sadly, starting tomorrow I have to clean it twice a day which will cause more pain to my son. Hopefully it won't cause a downward spiral because I am sure that it will remind him of us doing it to his hand years ago, when he wanted to be here, but fought with all his might against it because he was sure we wouldn't want him.