Imagine working at your computer one December afternoon when your neighbor thunders onto your porch, leans on the doorbell, knocks frantically, and bursts through the door—all at the same moment—while pronouncing that your daughter needs to go to the hospital. Now.
Next imagine racing across the front yard in your slippers toward your neighbor’s truck because your daughter is already situated in his passenger seat obediently facing forward, in shock. Was she hit by a car—you’re not even sure although certain words are beginning to hover in the air next to you, like dog bite and face.
It’s not what you see next, but what you don’t see. The absence of a facial landmark. But you’re not even sure which one because you’re afraid to really look. All your parental life you’ve scooped fallen offspring from the floor fearful of bloody mouths or broken teeth and at quick glance this seems to be the actualization of every fear.
You transfer your daughter to your own car, walking slightly behind her because from that vantage point she still looks perfectly normal. But while attaching her seatbelt you steal another glimpse.
“There’s a hole,” you finally manage to tell your husband, who by chance was also sitting at his computer when your neighbor crashed into the day, but who is now grabbing at socks and car keys and packaged gauze and not necessarily in that order.
Moments later you are behind the wheel driving to the Emergency Room when instead you make a quick left toward your neighbor’s house, because suddenly you think where there’s a hole there is a piece. Throwing the car into neutral you scamper onto the neighbor’s front porch and stand over your daughter’s discarded coat and backpack. This becomes Center. You scan left of center, right of center, up from center down from center, and underneath a wicker chair you spot a shriveled orange rind, except it isn’t an orange rind.
Suddenly thankful you learned how to drive by watching after-school reruns of The Rockford Files, you screech in and out of driveways and careen back to your house where your husband flies through the front door. And here’s what he does while he’s in there for
an hour two minutes:
First he fills a bag with ice.
Next he puts the amputated tissue in a separate sealed baggie.
And finally he drops the baggie into the bag with ice to keep chilled.
These exact steps kept Bossy’s daughter’s lip alive until it could be reattached. Once at the hospital there was some confusion about whether it would be best to float the tissue in saline. Some argued yes and some argued no while Bossy peeled her eyelids back over her forehead.
Eventually someone filled a vessel with saline and dropped the sealed baggie containing the tissue down into it which
makes no sense makes all the sense in the world when you are about to embark on a two-week trip to Hades.
Other things Bossy wants you to know if you are ever in an amputation crisis:
- The patient and getting to the Emergency Room should be the priority. Recovering lost parts is secondary to their care. Consider phoning 9-1-1 and placing them in charge.
- Manage the injury’s bleeding but do not apply a tourniquet so tight that it damages the severed tissue. Elevate the injury if possible.
- Wrap the amputated piece in clean gauze dampened with Saline and then place in a clean dry baggie. Or don’t wrap the amputation in a clean cloth dampened with saline but still put the piece in a dry sealed baggie. Just don’t drop the amputated piece into water or directly into saline as it will erode the tissue.
- Keep the severed piece within proximity to ice, but do not situate it directly on ice which will destroy the tissue.
- Don’t believe Bossy, buy a book of Worst Case Scenario Survival Tips.
Steph saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 11:38 am
Momo Fali saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 11:40 am
How in the holy heck did you guys JUST DO everything right? Not putting the onion slice right in the ice? How did he know that? And, that you instinctivly went to the neighbor’s…amazing. You guys are like the REAL Rockford Files.
Dharmamama saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 11:45 am
Wow! Way to think!
I know you didn’t ask, but… EFT can help remove the feelings of trauma, for you and your daughter, if you’re experiencing that still when you think about it.
I’d be glad to walk you through it if you’re not up to reading that site.
peace to you ~
andrea saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 11:47 am
Wow. I hope no one else ever has to deal with this and I wish your daughter and you hadn’t either. I’m impressed by your quick thinking. Wow again.
Prof. J. saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 11:52 am
You get the best bossy mom of the year award! Is the healing still going well?
Jenn saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 11:58 am
I can feel your panic as I read this. I am so glad you did everything right; in an emergency it sometimes seems a whole other person we don’t even recognize as a part of ourselves takes over. Thank goodness it’s buried in there, and that we don’t need it very often.
Thinking good healing thoughts for Little Bossy (and her parents).
RuthWells saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:01 pm
Holy hell, you scared me until I saw the link to the *December* afternoon. I thought this was a whole new crisis — which is what we moms do, I guess. Criminy, I need a valium.
Jennifer saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:05 pm
God, I started reading this and thought something else awful happened.
When you first posted about the awful thing, I tried to imagine what you all must have gone through. The terror of it made me a little queasy. Kudos to you for taking such good care of her in such an imaginable situation.
I think you’re having PTSD flashbacks and I wish I could make them go away for you. Dharmamama may have the ticket to that.
Ava Von Snarky saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:05 pm
I think it’s incredible the way you resonded so quickly.
The Mom Bomb saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:09 pm
Bossy has shamed me. My preferred method of handling a crisis is to spazz out and start shrieking “Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God!” Which isn’t exactly helpful. I want you on my lifeboat.
Hotdog saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:11 pm
i find it highly courageous and honorable that bossy and bossy’s husband were able to remain functional during the process. it was smart thinking to go back for the missing piece.
i woulda freaked the foOk out. :o(
Manic Mommy saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:11 pm
Thank God the auto-pilot worked correctly. I too wonder how I’ll do in a true emergency. I hope I handle it as well as you. And thanks for the tissue tips. You just never know.
Hilary saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:11 pm
My mom-heart goes out to you. I just can’t imagine.
Redneck Mommy saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:19 pm
I hope never to need this lesson.
But I remain firmly in awe of both you and your daughter.
kitcat saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:27 pm
I just felt the same queasy horror I used to feel when I read “IT”, in 7th grade, under the covers at night when the whole house was DARK.
amy saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:32 pm
I’ve been thinking of you guys and hoping she is healing great-
Lee saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:37 pm
Ohhhhhh, I’m am squeaming as I read this. But thank you for posting it. My youngest is ALL boy and I know that someday, I am going to need this information.
It is going to take me a few tries to get all the way through it, but I will and I will use the knowledge for the benefits of others. I promise.
Good luck to you and your Smiley Girl.
Please keep us posted with her progress (even though it is going to take a year or so to heal).
mp saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:39 pm
my chest got tight just reading this
Melanie at BeanPaste saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:42 pm
Man. The very same day this happened to Bossy’s daughter, our four-year-old godson got his pinkie finger nearly severed by a slammed door. His mother, in the middle of the screaming and squirting blood and panic, calmly held her son’s dangling finger in place, all the way to the hospital and in an ER waiting room for nearly one hour.
My point is this: being a parent turns you into some kind of Super Hero, a Super Hero that is one part Florence Nightingale crossed with one part Hazmat team leader crossed with one part ER-era George Clooney.
Way to go.
William saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:48 pm
This just amazes me.
Alli ~Mrs. Fussypants saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:49 pm
Bossy’s story, Bossy Jr.’s trauma, skin & onions all make me cry!
Mwah to you both!
Ree saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 12:59 pm
Bossy is my hero. I learn more by visiting here than anyplace else on the internets.
Now, can Bossy do something about the freakin’ blizzard outside my window?
shayera saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:01 pm
That made me cry a little. Bossy and her husband and smart son and adorable daughter have been pretty amazing.
The Domestic Goddess saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:02 pm
Holy Hell! That must have been an awful day.
But thanks for the tips…er…nevermind.
Wayne saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:05 pm
I’m very glad to know this, but not glad you’re the one teaching.
Tootsie Farklepants saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:06 pm
I believe Bossy.
peppermint t saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:09 pm
I’m pretty sure my heart would fall out on the ground if that happened to me.
Oh, The Joys saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:21 pm
So… what I’m not tracking is what happened with Daisy. The tissue took, right? Is it healing well? Was there nerve damage? Is she ok?
Caroline saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:22 pm
Oh, Bossy. Am simultaneously grateful for the information (I would have thrown The Peel directly onto the ice prolly) and so sorrowful for you that you would have direct firsthand knowledge about this, via your little Bossy girl. She truly DOES, at least in her photos, have the presence of an angel wrapped around an act of kindness and rolled in good deeds. Hugs to all of you from Hawai`i.
kit saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:23 pm
Bossy, it all sounds so awful. You are so brave. Hope she’s doing great.
And I believe you.
rebecca saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:25 pm
I hope I never need this info. It makes my tutorial on what to do when you discover the entire south wall of your house is missing and you have nowhere else to live and it’s almost winter seem like not such a big deal. 🙂
Seriously, now that things are starting to be closer to ok, take care of yourself. It’s usually when the constant stress and worrying and having to be ok to handle things calms down that PTSD kicks in.
BTW, my new kitchen cabinets are almost in (I know, only 2.5 years after Katrina), so if you do stop at my house on your roadtrip, I can offer you some good old fashioned southern cooking. (And lots of wine.)
Mary Alice saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:25 pm
Bossy, keeps her head about her.
Heather saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:26 pm
I’m pretty amazed that you remember any of that. I guess you were in a heightened state of awareness. I hope I don’t have to ever use your advice, but thanks for thinking enough of your readers to relive that day.
Tricia saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:26 pm
I’m so glad you were wearing “the slippers.” And, so glad that super-parent skills kicked in and you were able to work together to do the right things…
I hope your daughter is healing nicely.
Biddy saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:33 pm
thanks for the tutorial…
i hope i never ever EVER have to actually use it though…
big hug for bossy and bossy jr.
Amy Beth @ Ministry So Fabulous! saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:46 pm
Oh Bossy, Bossy, Bossy.
Still so sad for you, and little Bossy-ette.
Foolery saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:47 pm
Feeling a bit light-headed and out-of-body at the moment, which is what I feel when I don’t know what to feel, how to react or what to say. Still a cheering section waving a dorky flag for the Bossy household.
Avitable saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:48 pm
Just reading this made my heart beat really loudly.
dgm saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:51 pm
Will you be my mom?
Karen saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 1:54 pm
I just cried through this.
Hippo Brigade saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 2:11 pm
Wow and whatnot. I’m impressed.
Liana saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 2:23 pm
Yikes. I’m so so glad things turned out well (relatively, of course) and am SO impressed by how you and you hubby handled that situation. I thank you for sharing that with all of us- you did not have to- and I do hope and pray for a full healing for your sweet daughter and that your whole family will truly recover from this trauma. (Like Foolery above, I too am waving a dorky but heartfelt flag and cheering for you all.) You amaze me.
motherbumper saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 2:23 pm
Some of the best survival tools were learned from The Rockford Files and Quincy, weren’t they? That and how to mix a damn fine drink. Which I’m sure was needed after this.
I’m proud to say I read a blogger who knew what to do in this situation because if it had been me, I’d stand screaming on the porch while the professionals took care of my child. Or at least I think that’s what would have happened. Maybe – if I was lucky – I’d be brave like you.
Jenni saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 2:29 pm
It’s amazing the things that are brought to the front of the mind during a crisis. I hope I never need to use it, but it’s good to know not to put directly in ice; I would have.
sue saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 2:40 pm
Bossy, why are you revisiting this? Are you ok? Are you sure? What can we do?
Erin saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 2:41 pm
I am so very in awe of your wherewithall to go back and find the missing piece, and with your hubby’s ability to not freak the f*ck out and throw everything together willy nilly. Get on with your bad selves!:)
flutter saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 2:41 pm
I am so so sorry you needed this.
Sharri saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 2:52 pm
Oh my God, Bossy. It’s amazing what we do when in crisis and we go into auto pilot. I hope the healing of both body and mind are going well (for BOTH of you).
qt saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 2:55 pm
count me in as a person who was scared that something else bad had happened!
Thank you for the tutorial, bossy!
Lori saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 2:59 pm
Wow! I want you to be my mom!
Nilsa S. saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 3:15 pm
I can’t believe you manage to find an ounce of humor in telling this horrific story. Hope your daughter’s road to recovery is coming along.
Sarah @ Ordinary Days saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 3:19 pm
I remember hearing the story of how my mom had to bring our neighbor’s finger to the hospital after she got it stuck in the ladder on our swingset and it ripped off. My mom put it directly ina bag of ice. That must be why my neighbor ended up with only 9 fingers afterward.
meleah rebeccah saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 3:53 pm
I hope I never need this tutorial…
Melizzard saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 3:57 pm
Oh I get a little quesy everytime I have to think about what you went through that day.
Mama DB saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 4:10 pm
I do hope she is healing nicely. You guys are superstars for thinking to retrieve the missing part. I feel completely ill for you to have had to go through that. I hope I never need the tutorial, it is a great fear of mine.
Mrs. Chicky saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 4:11 pm
I don’t know how the two of you thought of all that, faced with what was going on.
How is your daughter doing these days?
chris saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 4:15 pm
When my husband chopped the top of his thumb off on our front porch (clearly front porches are to be avoided at all costs)I couldn’t find it. Then I wrapped his thumb tightly with duct tape and cut off all the bleeding, which was the wrong thing to do. But I really didn’t want all that blood dripping all over my car.
Kidding, btw. I thought he would bleed out and die.
How is Bossy girl doing?
Nancy saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 4:15 pm
After reading this, I realize, I would have done it all wrong! I never knew!
I’m hoping the healing, in every way, is going well.
Unless you’d prefer not to talk about it, what happened to the dog and how did the dog’s family respond to this?
Mr. and Mrs. Bossy are two cool cats!
Lori at Spinning Yellow saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 4:24 pm
I believe you, Bossy, but I may get the book anyway b/c I am sure I would have done all of that wrong! So glad that Daisy is OK and that you and your husband are so damn smart.
Dr. Monkey saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 4:37 pm
Thanks for posting this. Now I know what to do when my girlfriend finally has had it with me and she cuts off my penis. The first thing I’ll do is refer back to this post when that happens.
Surcie saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 4:42 pm
Thank you, Bossy!
Mr Farty saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 4:46 pm
I’m just amazed that BOSSY had the presence of mind to stop and take photos for her blog tutorial. But I’m confused – is Little Bossy’s upper lip made of orange rind or onion?
Seriously, even though I knew how this chapter ends, I had to stop every couple of paragraphs and remember to breathe. Jesus Harry Christ, you guys are amazing!
Best wishes for Daisy.
Janet saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 4:47 pm
I learned all of that when I took a first aid course many years ago, but I can’t believe you actually had the presence of mind to do it correctly in that state of shock and horror.
Good on you and your husband! (And thanks for the important reminder.)
HRH saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 4:47 pm
See this is why I read your blog…useful information and since I have already done my homework, by watching every single episode of the Rockford Files 5 times I feel like I am the super-geek sitting on the front row raising my hand asking for more homework.
Sounds horrifying and I hope all is well today.
we_be_toys saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 4:51 pm
Girl, I am again overwhelmed by what you guys went through, and relieved that things must be going well; because Bossy can actually cut a few jokes at this point.
I haven’t had to retrieve a piece of my child YET, but the one time we had to drive to the emergency room (to stitch together the head of my then 3 year old)was pretty nightmarishly surreal. I can only hope your hospital experience was more positive than ours. (But this is your blog, so I won’t digress)
Hope your little sweetie is doing well, and things are healing on course.
Half-Past Kissin' Time saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 4:52 pm
Oh, poor thing (not you, of course, you have everything under control!) I split my lip when I was five. Do her a favor and buy lots of straws. How many stitches?
Crystal saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 5:15 pm
I’m still mentally kicking that mother effing dog up it’s gnarly ass. I don’t know how you kept your composure, but you are fabulous.
and your daughter is beautiful AND has a story to tell.
sparx saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 5:16 pm
Oh, this still makes me feel ill with fear and sympathy and imagining you lying in the same bed not sleeping and watching over her… This is going to sound weirdo but I came home tonight intending to comment on whatever you posted by asking how little Bossy is doing because, you know, I’ve been wondering – and I’m not the only one, I can tell. Go on… how’s it healing? How’s she feeling?
Brando saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 5:42 pm
Bossy, it is amazing you kept it together and managed to retrieve your daughter’s lip. I hope I never have to go through something like this, but if I do, I hope that you and your Rockford Files driving could take me to the hospital.
Hope your daughter is doing well.
Becca saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 6:22 pm
What is happening with the dog?I am a dog lover but that dog needs to be put down for sure.
VDog saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 6:44 pm
The whole Bossy family is filled with Superheroes.
Jen M saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 6:52 pm
My stomach hurts reading this.
My five year old sustained a BAD head wound a few years ago – it was a slice through his forehead and it was really bad. I still have flashes of him coming around the corner and the way he looked, what he said, and trying to keep him conscious on the way to the ER. It stays with us, these traumas. I hope it fades into pale yellow butterflies for your daughter.
Parenthood is too much sometimes.
Spinning Girl saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 6:52 pm
Wow, scary and helpful, that was riveting and also some really quick thinking!
Erin saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 7:10 pm
I’m glad you’re able to talk about this. Not only for your sake but because your words may well come to someone else when they need them. I’ve prayed for your daughter and your family every day since I read about this tragedy. I know just what you mean about picking them up and cringing until you see they’re safe. My heart breaks just thinking of what you and your daughter went and are going through.
UncommonBlonde saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 7:19 pm
Is it normal that I feel faint after reading this? I think the steps would have to be different for me (1. Don’t look at anything – lay down, don’t faint …) You are one fast-thinking mamma!
Adorable Girlfriend saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 7:44 pm
This is the very reason Bossy has 200 million readers and AG has like 2: she thinks quick and swiftly.
Big hug to all.
the new girl saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 8:04 pm
I have The Heart Palpitations reading this. For reals.
I also have that fear of bloody mouths and broken teeth and have wondered how I might handle such a thing (I know a girl who was attacked by a dog a couple years ago).
You, your husband and your daughter are brave indeed.
Way to keep your head.
Mrs. Chicken saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 8:14 pm
I held my breath reading this whole post. My face is blue. Bossy, how … just, yeah.
OHmommy saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 8:19 pm
It’s the worst part of parenting, isn’t it? The afraid too look situations. I can only imagine how terrible it must have been for everybody. She is a beautiful girl.
Mrs. G. saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 8:23 pm
I have never forgotten the Oprah where she told viewers never to let a criminal take you to a second location or you are probably going to die.
Now, I will never forget this information. It is in my brain for good.
Ellen saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 8:46 pm
Elevate the injury? Manage bleeding? Amputated piece? Saline solution? I don’t think I would have the presence of mind to do anything but scream, FREAK OUT, call 911 and possibly freak out a little more. Which probably makes everyone glad that I’m not a parent (and my sister a whole lot less likely to use me as a babysitter).
Meg saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 9:08 pm
Meg would have panicked, hyperventilated, then called 911. Bossy is way more composed than Meg ever would be in such a crisis. I, too, feel a tightening of the chest as I think about this.
Riley saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 9:10 pm
Gosh! Bossy is one cool cucumber. Not to mention the Husband and son. Seems to me that this family plays well together in fair and foul weather.. Wishing Bossy minor all the best.
Chesapeake Bay Woman saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 9:25 pm
All of this is a miracle.
Each one of the horrifying hurdles in this crisis was successfully cleared, even in the throes of chaos and disaster. Bossy and Family’s quick thinking–based on something more than instinct–are a huge part of this miracle.
The fact that Bossy’s Daughter’s smile prevails is perhaps the greatest lesson for us all.
seattle mamacita saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 9:35 pm
Did the graft take? hope she is well. i can’t believe you were able to retrieve the piece of her lip from the porch what clarity you all had….
Theresa Bakker saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 9:45 pm
I’ve already been wowed by your comedic skills. Now you’re an ace trauma team member, too. Bossy for “Mother of Us All.” Good thoughts.
Miss Wisabus saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 9:50 pm
Really, thank you for posting this. If I had known this 7 years ago, my dad would still have all his fingers.
imagine community saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 10:07 pm
You guys are heroes, not just for being so collected in the situation but also for living with it in the subsequent weeks. Hope time heals the horror, if slowly.
After a middle-of-the-night ER visit a few months ago with my asthmatic son getting oxygen in the ambulance, the last visit, at 10 a.m. after we watched as his lung capacity dropped slowly over a couple of days, seemed rather uneventful.
Perspective, I suppose.
SuburbanCorrespondent saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 10:41 pm
I don’t even want to think about it. Your poor daughter….
Biddy saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 11:05 pm
so, what ever happened to the dog? please tell me it was put down…PLEASE
Lively saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 11:07 pm
I just freaked out!! How could you guys do everything just right? no wait, it’s perfect! I usually run out of words and ideas during panic/crisis and my mind is one blank tank. Thank heavens yours is not and that saved the day and Sunny Sunshine’s smile 🙂
How s the baby recovering??
Hugs to little Sunny.
Laurie saysJanuary 22, 2008 at 11:23 pm
It’s amazing how fast your brain can work in an emergency. Thanks for the post-my son has had his nose broken so badly that he needed two plastic surgeries, but he’s made it to 18 and the only body part he has actually lost so far is a half a tooth.
Regarding the Rockford Files–my (much older) husband says that Starsky and Hutch had better car chase scenes. I say that the Rockford Files had a better theme song, though.
joeinvegas saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 12:20 am
Hope she is doing fine, dispite you doing all the wrong things. Good thoughts for Bossy Jr.
David saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 12:27 am
I’m exhausted just reading that and need to lie down.
Christine saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 12:46 am
Out of words.
Suebob saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 12:59 am
You guys are so smart! You make me proud.
And if your car stops on the railroad tracks and you can get out and the car is about to be struck by the train? Run in the direction the train is COMING from, so you don’t get hit by debris when your car is smashed.
I’m just saying.
Ruth Dynamite saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 5:54 am
What a nightmare.
I shudder to think…
So glad she’s OK – thanks to you!
Laura saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 6:33 am
Bossy, there was/is no right or wrong way of doing things. You did what needed to be done and what our instincts told you to do and your husband. I can see where your little angel gets her courage from! What a great family! Hope she is doing well! I am dying to hear the dog/neighbor update.
Mr. Fabulous saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 7:22 am
Wow…just…wow. You are so awesome.
Kelley saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 7:41 am
I am freaking SPEECHLESS!
And I am never without speech. Even while sleeping…
Hope I never ever have to retrieve that from the ‘reading blogs that have rendered me speechless’ file in my brain. The folder is purple, just in case I ask you to help me find it.
maggie saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 7:49 am
Will you come live next door to me and play EMT when we need you?
Doug saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 9:01 am
Was it really that large???? OMG
Robin J saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 10:09 am
Bossy, you, your husband and especially your daughter have handled this trauma so well. Sending some internet love to ya!
heart shaped hedges saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 10:16 am
How is she doing? I hope the healing process has come along and that things are looking and feeling better. Update us on her, please, we worry!
Kristin saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 12:37 pm
I’m probably repeating everything everyone else has said, but you are so awesome to even think to recover the “amputated piece”. Hope bossy’s daughter is recovering well. So scarry, could have ended worse.
zenmomma saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 2:05 pm
Your clear headed thinking while in the middle such a trauma is amazing. I hope your sweet daughter continues to be on the mend. Thanks for the tutorial.
Dawn @ Coming to a Nursery Near You saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 2:12 pm
How utterly terrifying. I’m so glad she’s mending well – thanks for the tutorial, because I know I wouldn’t have my wits about me if something like this happened to one of my kids. I’d be too busy killing the dog LOL
Victoria saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 3:18 pm
Seriously – this is probably the most (potentially) useful thing I’ve ever found on a blog. You rock.
Victoria saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 3:18 pm
Seriously – this is probably the most (potentially) useful thing I’ve ever found on a blog. You rock.
Emily R saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 3:27 pm
Wow. Just found your blog, and what a post to start with.
Phoenix saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 3:28 pm
Holy crap, I never want to know this. But I’m glad I do just in case. Also, I’m so thrilled for Bossy’s adorable daughter that her lip went back on so nicely.
Scottsdale Girl saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 10:48 pm
THAT’S MY FIRST RESPONSE,
Scondary response is…I would have giggled.
Because I giggle in emergencies.
It’s really not attractive, Bossy.
Barbara saysJanuary 23, 2008 at 11:15 pm
WAIT! You didn’t say when exactly you take the calming, calming drugs.
Rachel saysJanuary 24, 2008 at 12:13 am
Oh my holy hell.
I hope she and you and hubby are okay. Wow. My heart just leapt up into my mouth and back down to the pit of my stomach.
supertiff saysJanuary 24, 2008 at 1:36 am
it was just has hard to read this as it was to read the initial account. i don’t even have any kids, and i still can’t wrap my brain around it.
i’m just glad you have all of this internet love behind you, and i hope it’s worth something.
Mom101 saysJanuary 26, 2008 at 5:49 pm
Half-Past Kissin' Time saysJanuary 27, 2008 at 11:20 pm
Dying for an update here….hope she’s doing okay.
Shawna saysJanuary 28, 2008 at 11:44 am
Good Lord! You guys showed fantastic presence of mind! I hope your daughter’s okay!
One quick thing though, and I only add this because I took first aid training last week, and most people are in panic mode and don’t have Saline lying around when something like this happens – you can wrap the amputated part in gauze and then dampen the gauze with water instead of Saline, and if you only have one bag you can put the works in the same bag as the ice if it’s wrapped in dampened gauze since the gauze keeps it out of direct contact with the ice.
bombaygirl saysJanuary 29, 2008 at 1:43 am
good lord. no way in heck would that lip have made it to the ER if i had been in charge. you are amazing. and so is little bossy. How is she doing…is something wrong, is that why you are writing about this again?
tanyetta saysFebruary 3, 2008 at 2:56 am
How did it all turn out? How’s your daughter?