Friday, August 14, 2009

First I Washed Her Hair And Then I Made Her Cry


The big bandage change just occurred. You never know what you're going to see when you take off a bandage.

I took care of a friend for a few months a long time ago who'd been gunshot. Yeah. It was a mugging with benefits. Really, I should not be joking. She could have died and came close to it. Anyway, her parents were nowhere around and for some reason I decided to take this girl in and take care of her, which I did. I used to be such a nice person. Now I feel highly philanthropic if I pick up the trash on Main Street which I did today, by the way. Damn but we have some trashy people here in Lloyd.

But I can remember doing wound care on that girl and how we both had to grit our teeth before we began. It was torture for her and the last thing in the world I want to do is hurt someone. But it had to be done. The wound had to be unpacked and irrigated, then repacked with gauze and so forth. We finally named the wound Ethyl. It just sounds so much friendlier to say, "Come on. Time to deal with Ethyl," than "Hey. Time for wound care."

And I know I did bandage changes on Miss May when she was recovering from being hit by a car. Broken bones and surgeries will lead to that but for the life of me, I can't remember doing it. I remember making her get up to take a bath and she almost passed out but thankfully our friend Emily came over and saved both our asses. Emily was an angel. I don't know why I made her get up to take a bath. I think that in my traumatized state of mind I just thought it would make her feel so much better to get all that blood out of our hair and so forth. To be clean. Perhaps I felt the need for her to undergo a rebirth of sorts. A purification. To rid her of as much of the accident as I could.

Whatever, it was faulty thinking and I'll never forgive myself for it.

What I mostly remember about May's recovery is being in bed with her and knitting while we watched Northern Exposure reruns. That was one of the sweetest times of my life. She still has the scarf I knit. It's a nice scarf.

So anyway, Miss Jessie got in the tub this morning (she wanted to!) before we did her bandages, with her leg over the side and I washed her hair for her. That, too, was a sweet moment. It feels so good to have someone wash your hair. And it felt so good to me, to have her precious head in my hands, to scrub and rub and make her smile with pleasure.

Then we got to it. I unwound the damn Ace bandage, not realizing it's one of those self-sticking ones and by god, I think I took a layer of skin off underneath her knee and it HURT her. Badly. Shit. We got the gauze pads off and the wounds look wonderful. No swelling at all, no signs of infection. But the whole thing was so traumatic and I guess the Ace bandage removal so painful that she got dizzy and light-headed.

I got her back to bed and cleaned the tiny incision sites with alcohol the way the instructions said and put two bandaids on and rubbed some aloe from the yard on the underside of her knee, gave her a Vicoden and a glass of juice, put the fan on her, a little bit of a cover, put the ice on her knee again and now she's asleep.

I called her daddy and said, "Yep. She's your child."
Mr. Moon is famous for passing out during bandage removal procedures. And when Mr. Moon passes out, it's like a tree has fallen in the forest. It's scary.

I've never personally passed out in my life but I've come close. The closest I ever came- okay. I do not want to tell the story but let me just say it was night, it was raining, I was on an interstate and I WAS DRIVING.

We all remember our first panic attack so fondly, don't we?

All right. That's that. And I'm going to go tend to the chicken house duties. Got my overalls on and I'm ready.

I hope y'all are having a great Friday and that no one has to rip any Ace bandages off your tender little knees and that if this does happen to you, you have a bottle of Vicoden to help with the pain.

Love....Ms. Moon

26 comments:

  1. knee surger sure ain't what it used to be. she won't have any scars at all!

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  2. You are a great mama and you surely didn't mean to hurt sweet Jessie.

    Northern Exposure was my all-time favorite television show. I wanted to be just like Chris the DJ when I grew up. Well, without the penis or the parole of course. I really dug him.

    I now have about 3 seasons of the show on DVD, and I watch them every winter. It makes me feel less lonely and depressed. I love that damn town and the people so much, I wish it actually existed. I always felt like I'd fit in there pretty well.

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  3. Mama- You are a great nurse mommy! I remember the wound care, but not very well. Mostly I remember laying in bed with you, but only after we washed the sheets. Remember how you had to change those sheets everyday because each morning they were filled with scabs from my road rash? Yuck. But you did it, and laying there watching N.E. with you was one of the sweetest times in MY life.
    SB- you know the episode where they flash back to the founding of Sicily? And it turns out the town was named after a girl? That girl (who played the part) is from here! I know her brother! He's a dick! But I'm sure she is very nice.

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  4. Steph- No kidding!

    Ginger- Oh. Well. I do try sometimes.
    But I sure have made a buttload of mistakes.

    Ms. Bastard- God. I know what you're saying. I loved that show with all my heart. Still do. Love 'em all- even that pompous ass Maurice Minnifield. Remember when he jumped off that waterfall, stark naked, instead of going to get a heart procedure? Yah! I miss Ed and Cris and Maggie and Holling and I miss Marilyn so much it makes me cry. I cried my eyes out on the last episode even though it had started getting weird. But Chris- yeah- we all were in love with Chris and wanted to be him, spouting the philosophy on the radio. Remember his black brother?
    Okay. I'll stop now.

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  5. Yep, I know that episode, May. And yes, I remember Chris's black brother, Bernard. He was cool too.

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  6. Oh shit! Mama- I forgot to say that it was a GOOD thing you made me take a bath! I'd had blood in my hair for five days or something. How long was I in the hospital? Now that part I DON'T remember.

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  7. I can dress my own little messes and would rather because it's sickening enough for me to get all choked up, so I don't want to put it on anybody else. I think of a removal last year of a cancerous growth on my shin. I removed the bandage two days later only to find another had grown in it's place. the whole thing wound up sickening and disgusting...and skin grafting. so glad it was in a reachable place as I couldn't bear to ask someone else to do it for me.
    You are so brave to do this, really. I've done this sort of caretaking before raising my brothers and sister, and remember tears pouring down my face and onto their little wounds, making it all the worse, when I cleaned them up. and Gawd could they get themselves into messes.

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  8. May- No. It was not a good thing to get you up like that. I was insane. I don't know how long you stayed in the hospital but not very long. We somehow scammed sweet Dr. B. into thinking I was a nurse or something. Remember we got you a hospital bed and a beside potty and everything? I had forgotten those scabs. My poor baby. I think I have tried to forget as much of that time as I could but I do remember a few beautiful things. I remember Dr. B. looking around your hospital room at all the treasures we'd brought from home and him being very quiet and then saying, "Your family really loves you. Do you know that?" And then he asked all four of your parents how we managed to make it all work the way we did.
    I loved that man. He's always writing letters to the editor now about how this country needs a single-payer system. I guess I still love him.
    I mostly remember wanting to magically heal you. I mostly remember being so grateful you were alive.
    I still cry at the blessing of that. I do. I am.

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  9. Mr. Berry- Well, I do have a nursing license and a degree, but I've mostly used it for friends and family. I'm pathetic.
    But really, sweetie- we all need help with our wounds sometime. It's a precious gift to be able to allow someone who loves us to help us. Honestly.
    But I know what you mean.

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  10. A whole bottle of Vicoden?

    Babes passes out in sympathy, which I think is the cutest thing ever. I had to have a gastroscopy (I think that's what it's called) and down he went. One of the most romantic things he's ever done.

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  11. That's exactly the same as my first panic attack. Minus the rain.

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  12. what a wonderful mother you are, Ms. Moon.

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  13. It's comforting to be taken care of by mothers and even better when they are trained nurses. Those times are close. My mother was here for me several times. I had a home health nurse for just a few visits when I needed wound care for my neck/clavicle area and then an RN came by to help, too.

    My sister-in-law is a saint, though, for helping me until I could arrange an assembly line to do it myself. She is not a nurse and endeared herself to me even more than she already was!

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  14. Mwa- Mr. Moon has never had to have occasion to pass out for me. He withstood the births of our children quite well. His will is strong. And yes- a bottle of Vicoden.

    SJ- Fondly. We remember those moments fondly.
    As if.

    Elizabeth- I look good on paper.

    Joy- It is a blessing, as I said, to tend to the physical needs of someone we love.

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  15. Oh how this post made me sob. I remember a few days after Farty's surgery, still in the NICU with all the wires and tubes, and it was time to check his dressing. And seeing that tiny baby, not even 1 week old with that incision marring his perfect little belly, well, I felt as if my heart was being ripped from my chest. My knees buckled, I couldn't breathe. It's not like I didn't KNOW it was there, and honestly, it was not nearly as gruesome as I had imagined in my sleep deprived, panicked, hormonal state. I would have given anything to take that pain away, to make that perfectly closed, well healing cut go away.
    I still think about it every time I change his diaper or his clothes, every time I put him in the tub, every time he runs around the house without his shirt. I kiss that scar, faint but still there every day. And we rub Burts Bee's boo-boo stick on it every day. It's a ritual, and it reminds me how precious and precarious life really is.
    My heart jumps into my throat whenever either of my kids hurts. When Ceara falls while she ice skates. When Farty skins his knees in the driveway. Being a mom is such a terrifying thing, and it doesn't matter how old those babies are.
    Sorry to take up so much space, you just really got to me on that one!

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  16. Rachel- Perhaps one of the biggest lessons we have to learn as mothers is that we can't prevent all pain for our children. And it is the cruelest lesson of all.
    One I'm never sure we learn. One I'm never sure we accept.
    And yet- we have to. Your son is fine and healthy and beautiful. You know that. But still- I understand how you feel. And remember this- you gave him life. He is living his life.
    And that is that.
    I love the Burt's Bee's thing. It's a loving ritual.

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  17. MM,

    Lord. I can't EVEN imagine how strong you have to be to know you are doing good and helping your child, but in doing so also doing the hurting at the same time. to make it all better. Big sigh*

    I also cannot imagine Mr. Moon passing out. Who would be large enough to catch him? Poor guy!

    I'm glad Jessie is recovering nicely. She looks maaaavelous! Oh, I was going to say, my dad used to be allergic to adhesive like on band aids or surgical tape... I find it irritates the hell out of my skin also, even if it's not tight or whatever...it's weird. And it IS very painful. I empathize.

    Sending love and healing over the fence.
    xo pf

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  18. Why do they do the bandaging that way!! Not fair! Surelyu there's a better procedure.

    Mrs Moon, I can honestly say that I would undergo surgery or injury to have the experience of a mama like you looking after me.

    I know it's not fair to say it, but your mama posts just break me open.

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  19. moms are the only ones who can take care of these kinds of things - and you are a good mama! tell jessie i hope she feels better very soon! glad her knee is looking so good...

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  20. Can you come and take care of me?

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  21. Glimmer- I'm so glad!

    Ms. Fleur- It sucks, hurting your child. We love Harley's card.

    Meli- She sure is.

    Ms. Jo- I believe that in mothering my children I am mothering myself. It's complicated but sort of a two-for-one.

    CMe- Thank-you. I'll tell Jessie.

    Aunt Becky- Why sure, honey.

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  22. I loved this post. I want to sit in bed, knit and watch Northern Exposure reruns. I loved that show, and had forgotten all about it.

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  23. Maggie May- Well just do it. Don't wait for you one of your children to get hit by a car.

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