neuroticgirl's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 24 hours 24 hours is SUCH a long time. Everything was fine. David had thrown a bunch of sawdust on the garage floor and made the kids little hockey sticks with the table saw and a hockey puck with the band saw. They were playing hockey in the garage, David and I were having a blast watching them because they were so excited. Then I asked how the hamburgers were doing. David went to check on them and found the fire pretty much out so he put more charcoal on them and then squirted some more lighter stuff on them. The fire shot up the lighter fluid stuff and exploded the top of it. Davids face was on fire and he ran and dropped into the dirt to put it out. He went to the bathroom and Ian, who saw the whole thing came and got me. He said "Mommy, David needs your help he's burnt bad!" And I honestly just did not believe him. For about 3 seconds. I jumped up and ran towards the bathroom, making sure the kids stayed in the garage. So when I was almost to the bathroom I hear David say "It's ok, I'm ok" and I slowed down. But when I rounded the corner it was clearly not ok. Not at all. I stayed as calm as I could getting breathing holes cut into washclothes to put on his face and called Billy. Billy lives about 1 mile away so he got here relatively quickly and I took David to the naval hospital. Where they trasferred him to Shands Burn Center in Gainesville. I rushed home, got him some button up shirts and pajama pants, calmed down the kids and drove to Gainesville trying not to get hysterical, wondering what was going on with him, hoping he was ok, hoping the pain meds they'd given him were making him sleep so he wouldn't be miserable. As it turns out he has first and second degree burns all over his face. The poor thing looks like he's in so much pain. But he's going to be fine. The doctor says it should be healed with minimal scarring in 3 or 4 weeks. Right now though he's still in the hospital, an hour and 45 minutes away from me. And he made me leave. I've gotten very little sleep in the past 48 hours and he insisted that it wasn't fair of me to stay late and make him worry about me driving home at night all tired and practically comatose. And I hate this. I can't quit crying, because even though I know he's going to be ok, he's not ok right now. And I can't do one single thing to make it better. And on top of that I'm not even there with him. I can't stand being here without him. It's very lonely. And I'm worried. All kinds of bad things are running through my head. What if something happens suddenly and I'm not there. Not that me being there would stop it but... No. No, I can not do this to myself. It's ok. He's ok, he's in good hands, he's able to get sleep that he might not get if I were there and he was trying to entertain me. Plus being home will let me get rest that I will need to go to work tomorrow morning, work through 4 hours so I don't get fired, then pick the boys up from school early, take them to a babysitters, and drive to Gainesville to pick him up. Then surely he'll need stuff once we're home. And I'll have rested so I'll be a much better nurse. Plus, it could be so much worse. When it really comes down to it he was lucky. I mean not as lucky as someone who, you know, hasn't had their entire face seriously burned, but lucky because this could have been a lot worse. I can deal with this but it's so tempting to just break the fuck down and not deal with it. I just want to ball up in the corner and cry for him. 6:29 p.m. - 04.13.03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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