The Pinkie Play (or One Stressful Day in the City)

I'm not sure what to call this post yet because I may ramble a bit...

First, I promised an explanation to my crazy stressful day in the city...here's the nutshell version:

July - Chris gets a cut on his pinkie finger while whittling on a stick
August - said pinkie finger no longer bends at the top knuckle, he probably cut a tendon way back when
September - we're seeing a specialist to see if anything can be done for said pinkie.
(Enter hip, young surgeon)  I've had some luck repairing those, it's a long shot but there's OR time tomorrow, decide right now.  Oh yeah, it will be months of rehab and nastiness.
Questioning Mother:  So, what about volleyball?
HYS: Out
QM:  Gymnastics?
HYS:  Out!  I'll give you five minutes...
Panicked teenager:  So, I won't be able to play volleyball, do gymnastics and school is going to suck because it's my right hand and I won't be able to write?
QM:  That's correct, but it sounds like you'd have your pinkie back if they're successful
PT:  Okay, I guess we might as well, but I'd rather wait until next week, he said there would be time next week.
QM:  Okay.  (Starts mentally figuring out how to handle this with the school, cancelling gymnastics and trying to figure out if she has the emotional stamina to deal with this man-cub through the pain and suffering that will not just be wrought upon the boy, but the whole family...we are the village)

HYS:  So?  Made a decision?
PT:  Yeah (very glum face) we'll do it, but not til next week
HYS:  Okay, but if you're gonna do it, let's do it tomorrow, be here at 7:45 tomorrow morning, K...see ya!  OH, and I won't be the guy doing the surgery, just so ya know.

We drive away from the hospital while I make a contingency plan for PT because he is now floundering in some deep waters of nastiness.  This is a huge decision and emotional upheaval for a child who does not do well with decision making or change of any kind...or disappointment, he was really looking forward to volleyball and gymnastics.  We make conversation trying to cheer him up, he negotiates the possibility of a new PS3 game as compensation for all his pain and suffering that he's going to have to go through.

We head over to the other end of the city to pick up parts for the combine when I get a text saying the surgery has been moved to MOnday.  PT sinks lower in his seat because now he has to worry that thought all weekend long, so not fun.

Before I can leave the parking lot my cell phone rings.  It is a perky nurse asking me if I can get my butt, my entourage and my PT over to another hospital because the surgeon who is actually going to do the surgery wants to check the finger for himself.  Around the screaming in the back seat I assure her that we will do our best to get over there right away.  We are on the complete opposite end of the world from the other hospital...heavy sigh**

Okay, so now scene whatever we're at now!  We're at another hospital with another surgeon, I have 5 crazy kids, correction 4 crazy kids and one mostly sane one that I brought along for that reason in the waiting room with a bunch of old people while we wait for the surgeon to see PT.  I send sane girl to Starbucks for me, I needs me some liquid reinforcement and a chai latte sounds like it should fit the bill.

I call over to the eye-doctor to let them know we'll be late for our next appointment, I break up fights and hope no one is staring at us too hard.  Finally we see surgeon #2...

Enter Older, Wiser Surgeon
OWS:  Let's take a look at that finger son.
He examines it extensively then looks at me.
OWS:  What did the other guy tell you?
QM:  He told us about tendon grafting, big ugly splints, months of rehab...
OWS:  Yeah, we could do all that but it's pretty complicated, really painful, a lot of scarring and minimal gain for all that pain.  The finger would never be the same and it's his pinkie.  If it was my son, I wouldn't do that to him.
QM:  So you're saying we shouldn't do the surgery?
OWS:  That's what I'm saying, it's been too long since the injury and success is pretty slim.  I wouldn't do it if I were you.
QM:  So then, no surgery.
OWS:  No surgery

We leave trying to wrap our brains and emotions around the fact that we are back to normal and can carry on as planned...I'm hoping Kelly hasn't called the school yet to tell them about all this cause that would just be dumb to have started that ball rolling and then have to say, "Just kidding, we're all good now!"

PT seems to be somewhat upset about the turn of events.
QM:  I thought you'd be happy you don't have to give up volleyball and gymnastics
PT:  Yeah, but I wanted the scars and the PS3 game

Biggest emotional roller-coaster I've been on in awhile.  Add to that mix high-maintenance child who needs new glasses and a whiny little girl who doesn't want to do what everyone else does, one tired mom and yeah...not a day I want to repeat.

At first I was a little upset that the medical staff didn't realize the tendon was cut when he was taken in, however, in retrospect he would not only have given up volleyball and gymnastics because that surgery would have happened for sure...he wouldn't have gone to summer camp or volleyball camp, the work that he did this summer wouldn't have happened and we would have had a very painful summer.  God really know what we can handle.  At the end of the day, not being able to bend the tip of your pinkie finger isn't so bad.  Kinda sucks for typing but that's about it...