I started off the day tired and by now am so beyond exhausted
We needed to go shopping this morning. I was almost out of cash -- and this is a cash-only society -- which means taking the mini-bus all the way into town or into the town next to the city, so I might as well hunt for harder-to-find grocery items while I'm there. I planned on leaving first thing after breakfast, but somehow that managed to turn into 10:30 or so.
So today we went all the way into Kampala and I bought some fabric in the big market (and had the conversation in the other post) and browsed the giant grocery store right by the taxi park. I have not actually spent a long time in this particular one, so it was very interesting!
See those long, wide aisles? and the lights overhead making the whole place bright? and the shelves covered with colorful stuff? Yeah, that is NOT what grocery shopping usually looks like in this country!!! ("Usually" meaning "any store other than this one!") I still couldn't find most of the specialty (meaning "normal") ingredients that I usually cook with at home. But cream cheese! I got some cream cheese! Although I've seen neither hide nor hair of anything bagel-ish, so I haven't decided exactly what to do with it! And parmesan, I got a small packet of grated parmesan for a price somewhat under the week's rent. And whole wheat flour! At least, it kind of seems like it's whole wheat flour, I haven't tried cooking with it yet. Although I also got a muffin pan, so I could cook something besides pancakes.
I tried to shop carefully, but when I loaded up my backpack, it was still full to bursting. So I didn't stop to get bread and meat, which is in the OTHER village. I'll have to brave it tomorrow with all the kids! I still had Buttercup on my back when I put the backpack on my front to walk to the downtown bus stop stop, but when we got off I put her in front and the backpack on the back, to walk between that bus stop and our house. I still don't have a strong opinion on which way is better, although Buttercup is a more interesting conversationalist than the pack. Together they get very heavy very quickly. Do you know what I DO have an opinion on? Trying to prepare a carry in a gas station in a too-busy area under the awning in the rain with everyone gawking and pointing at you, while you want your child to stay sitting on your pack because it's a GAS STATION and dirty and wet and full of traffic but she is two years old and bored and not very inclined to stay anywhere, and meanwhile you are trying to keep any part of your wrap from touching the ground while it is still half-tied around you from a previous carry and then having your child play in it, is NOT the best way to get a beautiful snug carry. (But I when I thought about it, two minutes of wrapping inconvienance is more than worth two hours of a secure and comfortable carry.)
Oh, one more wrapping-story before I go on to the exciting part of my day. While I was getting in the first mini-bus to downtown, I had a first: the guy decided to help me UNWRAP my daughter. I've gotten "help" wrapping before, which is annoying enough. But what happens when you are going through the pattern of taking your child out of a very familiar back carry, quickly, and someone suddenly grabs the other side and takes it off of you both? That's right, the child falls. Luckily, she's not a baby and I grabbed her, but I was really angry. I said something -- because he was ready to continue unwrapping me -- and he got this all "oh, so sorry" exaggerated face, like he was just trying to help and I was being picky and rude. I was thinking, isn't it OBVIOUS that isn't helpful? Would he suddenly take the wrap off his sister when she wasn't expecting it? Would he remove any other garment from a woman who was a total stranger? And drop it on the dusty ground? And the bus wasn't even ready to go, it was only half-full, so there was no reason for him to need me to hurry. Beyond the 20 seconds or so it probably takes me to rearrange everything and get in, which I think is pretty fast, all things considered. (The mini-busses are converted vans, so you have to crouch to get on, which provides challenges for anyone with their arms full.)
Then we had a short lunch and had to leave to go pick up the big kids. So back up in the wrap she went! She fell right asleep, although there wasn't really time to get a proper nap it was better than nothing.
We all got home. Hibiscus was in a grumpy mood and got two black X's on my new chart. I was trying to distract her into doing something pleasant, and we did have a nice cuddle and few minutes reading in her phonics book. I thought I would start a heavily phonics-based program for her, not because I'm worried about her learning to read right now, but because I want to erase the totally non-phonics reading that she started in the regular school, which I believe has totally wiped out any sense that letters and sounds might have once made in her brain. The up side is that while we're saying sounds over and over, it's a good chance to practice saying the sounds properly, or at least in American English. She's missing a lot of English sounds from her ever-increasing English vocabulary. I'm worried she's going to be really frustrated when she gets to America and no one can understand her, although she thinks she knows a lot of English -- and she does, it just comes out really funny. She loves this time with me and works hard to watch me and get things right.
Mostly, though, I was exhausted and just wanted to rest on the couch and read for the hour of so between getting home and starting dinner. I believe that the kids need to rest their brains for a while too, so I don't think it's lazy parenting to encourage them to go outside or play quietly for a little while.
Oh, and then there was the bit about Buttercup biting me. As in, a real bite! She was outside in the gazebo with the neighbors, and I realized she hadn't gone potty in a long time and I brought her in and she didn't want to come. I set her down and bent over to do her pants, and she leaned into my legs (as she often does) and suddenly chomped down. WOW!! It seemed almost more experimental than anything, but from my perspective, the experiment needed to end with a conclusion of Let's Not Try That Again! I put her on the bed for a Sit, and examined my leg, which actually had a blood blister. It was through my skirt, so I don't think there was any danger from germs in her mouth, but my goodness!
Then, we thought the day and the week were winding down, but the excitement was yet to come. Hibiscus was out in the gazebo getting her hair done by our Kenyan neighbor, which was very exciting for her. She came in to show me her first new yarn twists, and then ran out to get more. And slipped on the patio and smashed her head on the stone steps going up to the lawn.
First of all there was the blood, which was copious. I popped a towel on her forehead, knowing that head wounds bleed a lot, and also that the sight of blood was going to make everyone -- especially Hibiscus -- more upset. Emerson was right there, and I calmly told him to go get Miss Margaret, and he not-so-calmly ran and screamed for her. I was very glad for the extra pair of hands to help me clean up, and that she was equally calm. She held Hibiscus's screaming head while I got the medical supplies and we dribbled water over her wound, at which point we could see the bone underneath. Okay then. I taped some gauze over it, and we planned a trip to the hospital, which is convienently located next door. We seem to be heading over there an awful lot! Emerson and Miss Margaret came along with us, and Buttercup stayed with the neighbor boy. Hibiscus had stopped crying and gotten very quiet, which I'm not sure if it was because it stopped being so painful and scary, or because she got genuinely scared.
Her wound is a little over an inch long. It clearly gaped apart, and looked kind of white under the blood, like it went all the way to the bone. She didn't exhibit any signs of a head injury, though, so it was just a skin wound. It could have been much worse, but it was obviously something to take seriously.
Ooooh, stitches were an experience. I'm kind of curious about how different it would have been at an American clinic, except of course I don't really want to know. With children like this, I have little doubt that I will sooner or later though!
First of all, there was a lot of waiting. Then we saw the doctor, who asked a couple questions, and glanced under the bandage, and wrote some things down, and seemed to assume that we knew that there would be stitches. We went from the examination room, which is next to the reception desk, to the procedure room, which is next door. (Followed by a room where a second doctor could potentially work, although I have never seen two doctors present at the same time. Then comes the lab, and the bathroom, and that's the end. The pharmacy is next to the reception desk, and the rest of the space is fairly open for people to wait. That's the hospital.) Hibiscus lay down with her torso on a disposable sheet, and the doctor put a few supplies by her head, put on gloves, and went to work. She cleaned the wound, with a bottle which I hope was not hand sanitizer as labeled, and shaved her forehead. Then she stuck a needle with local anesthetic into both edges of the wound, got her next tools ready, and put in three stitches. It was very no-nonsense.
I stood beside Hibiscus and held her hand and put my other hand on her hip. I figured I could make the best of this and use it as a bonding experience to show her that I wouldn't abandon her to pain, and that touch can be comforting and healing. The doctor didn't tell me to be with her, but she didn't tell me to go away, either. Hibiscus didn't ask me to be with her, but she held right onto the hand that I offered her. She started crying with the cleaning, and the anesthetic needle brought a lot of crying and squirming, although she seemed to know she wasn't allowed to actually move away.
And about halfway through, something awful happened. I started to feel terrible, really terrible, like I might faint. I didn't want to leave Hibiscus, even for a moment, and I didn't want to bring attention to myself when she needed it so much. I just stood there, holding her, and closed my eyes and prayed for strength. I didn't actually pass out, but I think there were a few moments when I didn't know where I was!
I felt ridiculous, because although I'm not excited to be a nurse like so many in my family, neither do I freak out around blood, and I stay calm in emergencies. I did not feel upset in my head or my feelings about looking at the wound, I was just feeling sad for Hibiscus, and curious and interested in what the doctor was doing. All I could think of at the time was that I am hypoglycemic and the fall had happened right before dinner, so now it was past what has become our very regular dinner time. I wished I could ask for a cracker or a drink of water, but as I said, I didn't want to draw any attention away from Hibiscus, even just to ask something from Miss Margaret. I was hoping so hard no one knew what I was going through!
Later, I realized some more things, and can feel a little more forgiving to myself. I had been incredibly tired all day, and then had a big adrenaline rush when Hibiscus fell and was screaming and I was actually dealing with the immediate first aid and four kids watching me with big eyes, wondering how scared to get. It was getting dark, and in some ways I probably relaxed because the situation was finally in the doctor's hands, and I might have felt weak even I weren't watching the nastiest wound which I have directly experienced. Then, I thought about my friend who is a nurse, and still couldn't deal with her daughter getting shots. There is something that affects us differently when we are watching our own loved ones go through pain, our own little children whom we dedicate our lives to protecting, than just the experience of looking at blood and bone.
(As I write this, I am having to pause to wrestle the neighbor's in-line skates away from Hibiscus, because she will not stop playing with them on the stairs. The stone stairs. Where she cut her head open yesterday, without the benefit of wheels on her feet. Really, child, really?)
We got home. I heated up leftover lentil stew and rice. I tucked Hibiscus into a "snuggle up special girl" spot on the couch and let her play ipad. The wrap was still laying there from bringing Buttercup home earlier, and I tucked it around Hibiscus, like a blanket... except better, because her face lit up with joy, because the children know that wrapping is a way I show them love, so cuddling with a wrap is a good way to feel that love too. All the children gathered around her and snuggled into the wrap, too.
We ate. We headed for bed. There were more tears and fits, because it was late and everyone was exhausted. I gave both kid kids some time in the wrap, because they were so emotional they needed something to help rein in their feelings. I also gave Hibiscus pain-killers and an extra-large melatonin. We read fewer books than usual, and everyone cried. But between the short nap and the melatonin and all the tears and the late hour, both girls fell asleep in their bed before I finished the blessing and conversation with Emerson in the other bed. Which has NEVER happened.
Do you want to know what Emerson wanted to talk about? That he feels like I don't love him when he's at school, and he's worried that I'm going to drop him off and never come back, and he wants to know exactly what will happen if I have an emergency while he's at school and what time I will call to tell the teachers about the emergency. He thinks right at lunchtime would be the best. But actually, he thinks I just don't love him because I send him to school, and can he please stay home with me because he's afraid he's not getting enough love?
That was the bedtime conversation. Because clearly I hadn't had enough drama in my day already!
When I leave the kids in bed, I just need to decompress for a little while. So I read some facebooks and wrote a little bit of this out, and got to bed too late, myself. Oh, and while I was getting ready, I felt this bump on my hip, and when I looked I have this giant, swollen, tennis-ball sized bruise. I have no idea where it came from! I would think a bruise this big I would kind of at least remember getting.
Although I don't think it's in the right place that it turned out I passed out and fell after all!
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