Wow, what a 24 hours it’s been! I arrived at daycare yesterday just after someone shut Will’s finger in a door. I rushed him straight to emergency at 6pm, the pitch of his screams causing me to drive in the bus lane and commit a speeding offence. I wet myself rushing in only to realise there is no need to rush because no one actually acts like there’s an emergency going on. Will refused to sit so I had to walk him around and around and around. I really regretted not wearing my Garmin because I clocked up a lot of steps in that waiting room.
Finally an X-ray at 8pm but because I’m pregnant I had to hide behind the glass while two people held Will down, stopping him from reaching to me. I’m not sure which one of us was traumatised more! Pete arrived at 8:30pm saving the day with clean nickers, a nappy, a bottle of milk and a dummy. It’s the little things.
At 10pm we received confirmation that Will was fine, which we had already guessed because it had been 4 hours and he had started to move his chubby little index.
All I could think when we left was how lucky we are to get free healthcare and how humbling it was to look around the emergency room at parents I would usually judge, knowing that I’m the one that arrived totally unprepared, stunk of pee and was unable to control my child.