Girl Interrupted

So the boy awakened me at 2:00 this morning, to inform me that one of his bandages had come loose (ie. he was picking at it... Yes, at 2:00am because he's nocturnal, and I'm quite sure he couldn't find anything better to bide his time until sleep at last overtakes him, in that last hour or two before his 3 alarm clocks go off for school... And because he's had roughly a mere 1 or 2 hours of sleep, you can imagine how well 3 alarm clocks work... About as well as NO alarm clocks... Because even if he had 30 alarm clocks he still couldn't get out of bed, without me turning into the shrew with the giant veins pulsing at her temples.)

Where was I? Oh yes, Well, actually he awakened his dad because if there's anything my boy has learned over the years it's that Mom likes her beauty sleep... In fact, she NEEDS her beauty sleep... Desperately!!! Since the surgery however, I guess I've slept a little lighter anticipating a cry for help for something like another blown lung. So when the boy came in at 2:00am I jumped... Okay, I rolled out of bed and slogged my way down the hall behind my son who was claiming to be bleeding out of one of the few holes the doctor made in his chest cavity. You'd think I'd be sympathetic... Um, not so much. Need I remind you of the beauty sleep? To my credit, it wasn't like he was 'bleeding out' nor was he 'dripping' blood anywhere, so I went into Bitchy Mom mode.

Bitchy Mom: "What were you doing, picking at it?"

Boy: "NO, I wasn't PICKING at it!"

Bitchy Mom: "Then how did it start bleeding?"

Boy: "It was HURTING MOM!"

Bitchy Mom: "It was hurting BECAUSE you were PICKING at it!"

Boy: "JEEEeeeeZZZzzzzz MOM!"

Mind you this was the conversation to the best of my recollection, seeing as I was half comatose. Fortunately, earlier in the day I came across some bandages during my search for medical supplies as we were preparing for the proper care and maintenance of his major chest hole. So I quickly located a bandage for his newly uncovered hole, yet had to stumble my downstairs (muttering the whole way) to locate the Neosporin we'd used many, many hours before.

Even as I type this, I can't help but feel bad for the kid. It's not like he could've bandaged the hole himself because even for someone who didn't have surgery, it would be difficult to contort the body in such a manor as to try to place a bandage in the area he required one. So I guess I'll have to apologize when I see him this evening... But damn, I sure hope he doesn't spring a leak again tonight!