glimpse of gratitude

I don't know a thing about medicine. I get this glossed-over look in my eyes when Ry's together with medicine friends and their conversation turns toward work. I laugh out loud when Ry gets crazy annoyed at a tv show portraying doctors and he rattles off how wrong that is and how that would not be the correct treatment. He'll start telling me about a procedure he did at work the other day, and I'll interrupt him and ask, "do you really know how to do that?!" (he'll typically say something along the lines of "yeah, and it's really cool!" while I'm still reeling about how awesome he is). 

Seriously, our worlds are so different. And while he'll get an occasional view of me in my element, I rarely get to see him in his. The emergency department really isn't a child-friendly place that I would like to take my kids to if it's not completely necessary. It seems the only thing that connects us is a play-on with words: patience and patients -- we both max out daily. (haha, I'm so clever)

Back in July at Lake Powell, R was able to give stitches to his brother who sliced his finger pretty bad. I remember feeling so proud that Ry could do that (as if I had anything to do with it!). 

Well, the week of Thanksgiving I got another chance to watch R in action. Nonnie and sweet cousin S came out early for the holiday, and we had a few days of play before more family came. On Nonnie's birthday of all days, the three kids were running around having fun after dinner. In the fun of it, Lady-LE tripped and fell face-first into our brick fireplace. There was a decent sized cut across the bridge of her nose.

I don't remember the craziness of getting the blood cleaned up and her calmed down. But I do remember the three of us (R, me, and Lady-LE) sitting on the bathroom counter staring at the wound in the mirror. R was talking through his thoughts about whether it needed stitches or not. And it did. The cut was rather large in my opinion, and the skin seemed to have this elastic pull keeping it open (see - told you, I know nothing of medicine). I remember looking at my sweet little girl, and being shocked at how much I could see under the skin. I didn't like it one bit. Ry said that if we took her to the children's emergency department, they would definitely stitch it up, which would require sedating, which also meant waiting 6+ hours because we had just eaten our dinner.

Eventually we decided to glue it shut at home. I held her body and arms, Nonnie held her head with gauze covering her eyes (to keep the glue from running down into them), and Ry applied the durabond to close the cut. It took a little while, but we did it.

This was taken the next day as we were raking leaves in the backyard.

I have never been more proud and grateful for Ryan. Even in the heat of the moment, I never felt scared. I completely trusted his judgment and decision, and knew that she would be fine. I know that he does bigger and grander things in the hospital. For goodness sake, he has literally saved lives! And this was just a big little wound on a two-year-old. But this was different, because this was our little girl. This was our family. And he helped make it all better for us.

{We don't have any pictures of the cut itself, or the before/after looks. The purple color comes from the glue itself. Surprisingly she didn't get any bruising around her eyes. Within a few days the glue came off and the cut stayed closed. She still has a little line from the cut on her nose, but it is really small.}

That night after it was all over, we all snuggled on the couch for a while together. I marveled at what a beautiful feeling it is to know that we will always be cared for, provided for, and taken care of by Ryan.
Words cannot do that feeling justice. It was complete peace and gratitude for my little family, especially Ryan. One moment that I will always treasure in my heart.

I love my family.