Update on Georgia … in the wars …

Georgia’s mouth looked pretty grim this week.

Her chin and bottom jaw were pretty banged up and bruised, with the result that she was not moving her bottom jaw to speak or eat, or brush her teeth.

Her gums were swollen, and I was not convinced that her teeth weren’t damaged.  We also couldn’t really see her front top and bottom teeth as everything that was either bloodey or swollen blue/black – and there was no way you could get in to see what was going on.

I know the right thing to do is to wait it out, and then things would look better, but I was convinced that the teeth that took the brunt of the fall were going to need to be pulled, or something very similiar, and each day seemed to bring a fresh crop of anxiety and panic about my daughter ending up looking like a troll, as I decided to “wait and see…”

Like any slightly hysterical mother I was disappointed that the doctor did not do what I thought was required i.e. a full head x-ray, a EKG, a full blood work up, a CAT scan and what ever else sound important – with a STAT at the end of it {I have clearly been watching too much Grey’s Anatomy}.  Instead he put a plaster on her chin and sent me and her on our way, wtihout ordering one unneccesary test. 

When I mentioned that Georgia has a tendency to fall/trip a lot, his response was: “Maybe she is just clumsy…”

Bear in mind we have come from a fall at school – where she was playing by herself and fell on her face.  Walking from the car at the ER to the ER door she fell again, I kid you not.  So you can see I might find it difficult to accept my child is  “just clumsy”- any the who, clearly I felt that we had been abadoned by the entire medical fraternity and decided to take matters into my own hands.

I was recommended to a really good (=great equipment but really expensive, and medical aid does not cover his rates) dentist in the area and took Georgia along to the appointment.

I love a doctor/dentist who takes the time to examine a child correctly when the mother is clearly having a freak out.  This guy clearly had met a few overraught mothers in his time, and knew exactly how to proceed.

There was also a television in the ceiling, and the dentist chair was covered in the same cow-patch plastic material they use for all Spur furniture – makes children feel safe if they think that there might be a Spur burger or Chicco the clown in the deal. 

Georgia eased in to the chair, he put the movie on and she opened her mouth and gave him a look to indicate the less he spoke, the more she could watch the movie.

He checked what he could.  He could not get in to her mouth as she could not open her jaw, so he used a small camera to take photos of the inside of her mouth.  He was concerned that her gum was very bruised, and there might be a jaw fracture.

I don’t exactly like to high five and say “see  I was right to be concerned” … but well, no doubt you know how it goes.  He did a full jaw x-ray and it showed that there was damage to her milk teeth, but the permanent teeth had not been damaded.  The permanent teeth that had taken a bit of the impact, did not have a root system, so were fine and would probably move back in to place.

By yesterday her swelling had reduced, the pink had returned to her gums, and the bruises looked much better. I could have left it, but it would have added to my worry.

I think the point I am trying to make is that when I took her to the ER, I should have insisted on a jaw x-ray, and should not have settled for being bustled out the door with a band aid, and a “call me if there are any problems…”

You mean more than the cut, the bruised chin, the teeth that are bloody, and the fact my daughter can’t move her jaw.  What other problems are you referring to?  Coughing up blood?

I stood there in silence and the doctor took control of the situation.  I really have no idea why doctors/people in white lab coats have this hold on me.  It is like I am fully in control and have vocal ability until I cross the threshold and then I turn into this simpering parent, and forget that this is actually my child, and last time I checked there is a bill that gets paid, hence the reason I am elevated from being a patient to a customer.

Note to self: I really must learn to grow a pair!

Monday morning and emergency rooms …

This morning was a pretty “classic” Monday morning.

You know the one where you wake up and then you plan on things going a certain way, and then next thing you realise almost nothing has gone to your plan.

Kids are doing the normal fighting and blubbering that has become standard fare for all mornings.

Jackson, my cat is available, so I get his cat box and try to herd him into the cat box so he can go to the Groom Room for a bath and a brush out.   Seemed easy enough, but the girls were fighting with Connor as he tried to keep the door closed {so the cat would not get out} and the girls were screaming they wanted it open, and there is Connor trying his best to get big cat into small box.

That done, it was get everyone in to the car, and the cat box.  Okay, all seems sorted.  I notice my flashing petrol gauge light and know I need to stop for petrol.

Went to drop Connor and Georgia off – I leave them at school.  Glance at my petrol gauge, and think, okay let me get to the Groom Room, drop Jackson, then I can stop for petrol.  I still have Isabelle with me so need to get her to school still.

I get a call from Teacher Lizette.

“Georgia has had an accident.   She is bleeding quite a lot and I think she might need stitches.  I am a bit afraid with the amount of blood there is….”

Me: “er …. right, I will be there in about 10 minutes…”

Drop Jackson off – which was more of a tuck and roll, than actually stopping the car and delivering him to the parlour.  I am sure he will be fine, and he has another 7 lives left, so it will be okay.

I speed off back to Georgia’s school – still with Isabelle, who by this point has started to get upset because we are not following the standard format of the morning and getting her dropped off at her school. Instead I seem to have driven all over the freaking peninsula and she is still trapped in the backseat, and she is starting to get really crinchy at this point.

Arrive at Georgia’s school – find her.  Crikey she looks like she has been on the wrong end of a domestic dispute.  Wow, she really looked grim – swollen lip, what appears to be broken teeth/tooth, bruised chin, cut on the inside of her now swollen lip and a cut on the outside of her lip.

So it is all blood, and gore and no way I could clearly gauge exactly where it was coming from.

What to do when unsure?  Pack up and head to the nearest Medi Clinic me thinks.

Georgia in car, high tail it to Isabelle’s school, could not think of dragging her along to the hospital.  Dropped Isabelle, back in the car, still ignoring the “good gawd your car needs petrol” light and think, okay I must deal with that, but let’s get Georgia sorted.

To the hospital, the usual wait in the uncomfortable lounge area, and this always leaves me wondering that if this is a long wait, how much longer must it be if I was at a government institution?

Finally got Georgia to see a doctor.  By now most of the blood seems to have stopped.  It was now obvious that the cut on the outside of her mouth would need stitches/pritt glue and would leave a scar.

Her one tooth looks like it is a blood tooth.  So the doctor patched her up, gave her some pain killers, glue-patched the cut and sent us on our way.

I thought I would stop at McDonalds as Georgia wanted an ice-cream and at that point I would have given her pretty much anything – she had been awfully brave at the emergency room.

Finished, then stopped at the chemist to fill the script.  I was nattering to Georgia about what she was going to do at home, and forgot about the petrol light.

About 50 metres from my house my car decided that it was no longer going to take my crap where I ignore his/her demands about petrol, and decided after splutter-splutter-choke it was just going to die and that was the end of it – it does not run out of petrol, as opposed to just decide to stop.

Fortunately it was walking distance from home.  Unfortunately there is no petrol in my car.  I might have to walk down to the local garage with 3 – 5 empty wine bottles and ask them to put petrol in it so I can fill my car and get to a petrol station and then put in a real amount of petrol.

On the upside at least it is near home, and well, that is really the only upside.