The Dangers of Recycling!

As a parent, especially as a mother of rough-and-tumble, full-contact-sport boys, my natural state of being is one of disaster-preparedness and constant low-level alert, due to the potential for any normal, everyday event to abruptly transform into a Hazardous Situation, fraught with all kinds of peril. You want to climb over the neighbor's 6-foot wooden fence to retrieve your ball? You could fall and break something! You could get a splinter! You could...rip your pants! Just about every possible game they devise--whether it involves a ball, pretend-swords, or some form of wheeled vehicle--involves the risk of danger and personal injury. I call it "a mother's nightmare waiting to happen"; they just call it...EXTREME FUN. So my personal Mom's Motto has long been: "any day without a trip to the Emergency Room is a good day".

And I may deeply regret jinxing myself this way, but we have gone 10 3/4 years without either one of my sons requiring that dreaded trip to the ER (yes, I'm knocking on wood as I type this). With all of their leaping off of things, and barreling over things, and flinging themselves at things, somehow they've managed to remain intact (so far). Their father, however...ended up at the hospital today after suffering a grievous Shopping Injury! Let me explain...we set off on a family Errand Trip with a few tasks to accomplish. First on our list: Best Buy, which takes back and recycles old TVs and DVD players, of which we had one of each to dispose of, in a hopefully responsible and ecological manner. I had attempted to take care of this particular job alone, but found myself utterly unable to get my arms around the 27-inch, 60-pound CRT TV to lift it into my car. Long-armed Husband to the rescue. He wrestled it up the stairs, into the back of my Subaru, out of the car at Best Buy, into the store, and onto the counter. So far, so good. Meanwhile, I drove off to find a parking spot, then joined all of the boys inside.

Assuming that Husband was working on the TV transaction, Derek and I then applied ourselves to finding a cord for his electronic drum set. As we tagged along behind a helpful saleswoman toward the back of the store, I noticed that we seemed to be following a trail of blood drops on the floor. Hmmm, curious...

After procuring the appropriate power cord, Derek and I reunited with Royce and Riley at the front door...where Royce appeared to be clutching a tissue to his finger...and bleeding. (Aha! mystery solved!) It seems that when the clerk had pulled the TV toward himself to remove it from the counter, Royce's finger was still underneath, and had been sliced open. And here, my friends, is where being a Veteran Parent serves you well--I examined the wound critically, and determined with my best (non-medical-professional) judgment that it was "about 50/50" he'd need stitches. We proceeded to treat the injury with supplies at hand (antiseptic ointment, gauze, bandage, and tape from my car's First Aid kit). When we had stabilized the injury (have I logged too many hours of Grey's Anatomy in my life, I ask you?), it was time to address the other pressing issue: should we complete our errands, or go straight to the next step (you know, obtaining ACTUAL medical assistance)?

Holding his hand up above heart level to minimize further bleeding, Royce gamely suggested we finish up. Since the finger clearly wasn't broken, the bandage seemed to be holding, and the bleeding was contained, I agreed. (It never even occurred to me at the time, but I'm sure the Best Buy employees were soooo happy to see us leave their store. Customers oozing blood have got to be bad for business!)

We calmly bought Derek snow boots, we efficiently made a Costco run, and then we matter-of-factly headed home so Royce could pick up his wallet and drive himself to the ER. I figured he'd be a while, since he didn't have a gushing cut, or a protruding bone, or an obvious head injury...but he strolled back in after a fairly short time, having received 5 stitches, a physician-applied dressing, and a tetanus shot ("just in case"--maybe it was...rusty plastic). All-in-all, quite a bit more dramatic than the usual routine Family Mall Outing...and to think, the entire experience happened because we wanted to do our bit for the environment! Well, I think Mother Nature owes us a major apology! (I'll take sunshine and 70 degrees for a few weeks in the middle of winter; that should about do it...)