So The Good News Is Last Week Is OVER.

So last week, I didn't post because of this:

I sliced open my right index finger on Tuesday night on a tin can. Yes, a tin can lid. We have a horrible can opener and I stupidly (for about the 20th time) tried prying open the rest of the can with a fork and the rest is history. I cut myself and immediately started to bleed everywhere. I ran to the bathroom after panicking a bit and realizing that "CRAP!a Snoopy bandaid is NOT going to work on this," I wrapped it in gauze, put some tape around it and put on a small ill-fitting glove. I held a towel to it and elevated my finger in between panicked, sobbing phone calls to my mom and to John. My mom stayed on the phone while John rushed home to take us to the ER. *sigh* 5 hours later, we were back on our way home. I received 4 stitches in my finger. I get them out this Thursday. It now looks like this:

I tried to take a picture of the actual stitches for you die-hards, but the camera wouldn't focus very well. Anyway, the moral of the story is: GET A NEW CAN OPENER YOU CHEAPSKATE. Yes, yes we will. Electric.

I am normally a very healthy, coordinated, smart individual, so why am I falling over baby gates and cutting open my finger lately? Your guess is as good as mine. But at least things were gunna get better, right? RIIIGHT?

So on Thursday of last week, we set off to Texas to visit some of Johns relatives. It was a long trip (about 10 hours) and frankly, I wasn't too thrilled to go. I mean, from what I remember of Marshall Texas, it was small and in the middle of nowhere and boring. Yes, I am very selfish. LOL. I know we needed to visit family but it was just such a LOOONG trip! We got there late at night after getting lost and we were pooped. We stayed with his grandma and although she was a great hostess, her house is covered, floor to ceiling to wall with knick-knacks with translates to NO CRAWLING NO TOUCHING NO BREAKING for poor little Henry. He loved the little ceramic houses and globes that lit up at night, but I bet he crawled for less than an 20 minutes total while he was there. It was exhausting for John and I. In the room we slept in, there was a piano and he loved that! He was able to bang on the keys and we got a lot of cute photos like this one:

Anyway, we were having a nice time and we were able to visit one of John's dear friends and spend some time with her. Her husband unexpectedly and tragically passed away last December. John was very close to him. He owed her a visit and it was long over due and I'm glad we were able to see her. Afterwards, we walked to the downtown area and you know what? I discovered how cool Marshall was. It had cute little trendy shops and eateries and some great antique stores and this Christmas/decorations gallery was having its open house and I was in 7th heaven. I planned the next day to come back and really soak it all in (*cough cough BUY STUFF cough cough*).

Saturday morning, we went with his grandma to eat at IHOP. We walked in and they sat us two tables away from George Foreman (he's from Marshall) and a few people asked for his autograph. As I was contemplating asking him or not, his whole family came in (about 15 people) and there were kids , grand kids and in-laws all eating with him. They were having a nice time and I didn't want to bother him. One of his family members picked up Henry's bowl of Cheerios off the ground since he tossed it into her way as she walked passed. I swear, it looked like we staged it that way.

The server brought the water for John's grandma's tea and within seconds, it had accidentally tipped over and poured into little Henry's lap. He immediately started screaming and I took him to the bathroom to wash off his arm. I wasn't thinking at the time to take off his cotton pants that had gotten soaked. He wouldn't let up and the manager who had come to talk to George and his family, stared at us and asked if we needed burn spray. I had a feeling this was worse than that and took Henry to the car to see if I could nurse him to calm down. I was so angry that John was taking his time to get to the car because by this point, Henry was in hysterics and in real pain, I could tell. I was hysterical too. John came over and told me to drive while he drove his grandma home and I said that I think we need to get him to the ER. I lifted up his pant leg and saw his skin peeling off. I almost gagged. It was awful. John saw and rushed his grandma into the front seat of our car and he drove as fast as he could to the ER. Thank God we arrived early and nobody was there. Henry was attended to immediately, given Morphine for the pain and had calmed down a few hours later. They started an IV on him, gave him fluids and I nursed him to sleep. He was so uncomfortable. Poor thing. I sobbed while I recounted what had happened. I should have taken off his pants, I should have done this, or that. The male nurse was so sweet and told me about the time his son had to go to the ER and how bad he felt. John had gone home to drop his grandma off and I sat there with little Henry, and IV in his arm, huge open wounds that hadn't been dressed yet. It was a nightmare. Luckily, things got better.

That Sunday we saw a burn specialist at Louisiana State University (40 miles from Marshall) and they were very optimistic. They said he would be fully healed in one to two weeks without a scar, which by the looks of the wound is very hard to believe. It went from his kneecap to his lower hip. Here's a picture of the little guy all bandaged up but doing fine!

It is so unexpected but after that first day, he hasn't even needed pain meds! He hasn't fussed or cried over it and has really just been remarkable. We changed his gauze last night and not a peep and he has been sleeping really well.

I think it is a wonderful blessing....