WARNING; Graphic bloody pictures ahead.

    Two days ago I was at work and forgot that my phone was in my pants pocket. Of course, we aren't allowed to have our phones while we're on the clock. But it rang. Loudly. I felt bad, pulled it out of my pocket to ignore the call. It was Rob. I was annoyed because he knew better than to call me at work. A few seconds later it rang again. Something was up. So I asked my supervisor for a quick break and ran to the back to answer.
 
    I could barely hear Rob say "We need to go to Instacare!" over the sound of screaming and crying in the background.
 
    We have a heavy wooden garbage can holder in our kitchen. You open it up and the can sits nicely inside. Max pulled it down on himself and smashed his fingers. There was blood everywhere, a fingernail shifted off to the side of the finger, a part of finger hanging off the tip. It was pretty bad.

    I couldn't leave work, but Rob stopped by on his way to the hospital so I could get a few hugs and kisses in. I could hardly stand the sight of the blood covering his shirt.

    I called Rob later that night to see how it went at the hospital. He said the dr would have liked to give him stitches but didn't want to fight to hold Max down while he did it. And he didn't even glue the finger back together. He just wrapped it up, gave a prescription for antibiotics, and sent them on their way.

    Well, alright. Obviously if the doctor didn't think it was too bad, then fine.

   Last night I found myself driving Max back to Instacare in a blinding rage. We were putting fresh bandages on him. When we pulled the old ones off I was sick to my stomach. That was the first time I had seen his fingers and I was shocked that the doctor thought not putting stitches on him was ok! Our fumbling fingers weren't going to be able to wrap his fingers back up without doing more damage, so we did our best and I got him in the car. The rage hit me suddenly on the road. I started seeing flashing lights and had a hard time breathing. I called Rob immediately and he managed to calm me down before I walked into Instacare ready to tear into somebody. It wouldn't have done any good.
 

    We had a very good nurse and a very good (different) doctor. He was really concerned about Max's fingers and agreed that they should have been sutured. But it had been too long now to do it. He x-rayed Max and found a fracture that the other dr had not even taken the time to consider. Unfortunately, nothing more could be done for him now. But they did glue little bandage strips to the tips of his fingers to bring the pieces back together before wrapping him up again.

   This whole time, I couldn't stop being amazed by my sweet Max. He didn't want to go to the doctor, and at first he was scared and crying because he thought he was going to get a shot. But once he was assured he wouldn't, he was a tough kid. He was friendly and curious. He was sweet, and he never once complained when he was being poked and prodded. I was a proud Momma!
       
    He had to soak his fingers for a while, and they gave him some tongue depressors to play in the water with. He has the greatest laugh!

   He got to take his x-ray picture home and show Connor his bones.

   When we got home he got to sleep in bed with Mommy and Daddy. Daddy chose to sleep in Max's bed after a few minutes of getting rolled over and smacked in the face. I got very little sleep as Max had nightmares all night. He talks in his sleep. It was very clear what he was dreaming about. :(  But today he is 100% himself again.

    Now I've had enough of my kids getting hurt. I really hope we can avoid any further trips to Instacare, or even calls into our insurance nurse hotline. Or poison control.