Sunday, Bloody Sunday

So I was minding my own business this morning, happily spanking the disaster that was once my beautiful bedroom, into submission. Suddenly, I hear Camden's closet door slam shut, followed by a high-pitched squeal, followed by mass-hysteria. This happens quite frequently in our home - - those of you with boys know full well that they like to climb on things they aren't supposed to, wedge themselves into spaces they don't fit into, and hurl their bodies off pieces of furniture, no matter how many times they are told not to. I attempted to calm the boy down - - told him he'd be fine. That was, until I actually looked at his finger. The tip looked like a little club and was alarmingly large. Although some will tell you I tend to be melodramatic at times, I'm blessed with the ability to remain calm, cool, and collected when it comes to Medical Emergencies Involving My Children (okay, except for the time when Camden was 1 1/2 and decided to jump on the sofa, subsequently pitching himself head first over the back of the sofa, landing behind it on his head - - I freaked out that time). ANYWAY, Camden was still screaming as my eyes popped out of their sockets at the sight of his Gigantic Clubbed Finger. I decided to place a quick call to my dear spouse, who was safely away at Army drill, and therefore missing all of the drama. After a quick consult, I informed him that I would be taking Camden to the emergency room. That's when Steve reminded me that he had the car (yes, it is true, we only have one car). Plan B...I called my sister-in-law and thank goodness she was home. A few minutes later she was at my house to watch Griffin, while I took her car, and Camden, to our local hospital. Luckily, the finger wasn't broken, just slightly squashed. At one point, as the two of us sat in the emergency room waiting, it dawned on Camden that he, at long last, had me all to himself, which perked him right up. His mood was further enhanced when he realized nobody was going to amputate his arm. An interesting side note: As Camden and I arrived at radiology for an x-ray, we found the "x-ray table" (sorry - - I don't know the technical term) smeared with fresh blood - - not just a drop or two, either. After a few minutes the x-ray tech mumbled something about "cleaning up after the last patient" and proceeded to wipe the table with a teensie-weensie wet wipe. I am not kidding. Our old friend Lew had told me at one time that he'd rather keel over than set foot in our local hospital, and I'm beginning to understand why. Ick.
I'm happy to report that Camden has recovered, although I'm quite sure he'll lose a fingernail before it is all said and done.