Today was dominated by two events: my mama's birthday and a visit to a plastic surgeon.
My sweet mama turned 73 today and though this means that I'm also getting older, the plastic surgeon visit was not related to either one of ours increased number of wrinkles. No, that visit was all about little Miss Merry.
While at a friend's house this afternoon, Merry was running and tripped --- because, as she says, Tom's are not good shoes to run in --- and hit her forehead against the edge of the hallway doorframe. There was a lot of blood and most of us were a lot more shaken up than she was. In fact, through the whole ordeal, she neither cried nor screamed.
I first took her to a local walk-in clinic but upon seeing how deep and long the gash was, they referred us to a plastic surgeon. After about a million stitches, the doctor proclaimed her his bravest child patient ever. The previous clinic's doctor had said the same thing.
Our little trooper is now sleeping and my phone is programmed to sound an alarm in two hours. I've been instructed to wake up every two hours and check to make sure she's responsive. We are praying against a concussion and infection. I am thankful that despite the nastiness of the injury, that she handled it well, we live in a nation with superb medical care, and we have great insurance. Please join with us in praying for her full recovery and that tomorrow, as I'm working with volunteers and running on little sleep, that the Holy Spirit will fill in all my empty spots.
Oh...and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM! I love you so much and today brought back memories of you holding me as we raced to the hospital for my forehead's stitches over 40 years ago. Thanks for always being there.
P.S. Y'all can all thank me for not posting the before-the-stitches gash photo.