Elijah Ricks
Magic Medicine
Thursday night, Kira was off at a meeting while I was on daddy duty. Perhaps that was the main ingredient in the recipe for disaster that was cooking up. After Avey had been “in bed” for about 40 minutes, I could hear her sobbing in her room. I ventured in, prepared to assist with what I was sure must have been another misplaced stuffed animal. To my horror, I instead found Avey’s tears were the side effect of a burned finger! As we rushed to the kitchen for some cold water, she explained that she wanted to know what the light bulb feels like in her little desk lamp (we leave it on at night to quite effectively ward off vampires, zombies, mummies, etc.). She, being the audacious young woman she is, surmised that the only way to know would be to make physical contact (I later informed her that, in the future, she should ask an adult).
As I nursed her now blistering finger and assured her all would be well, I wondered how we would make all well. After 10 minutes, her finger still throbbed if it was out of the cool water for more than 30 seconds. We found the same result after 30 minutes; the same after 1 hour. Every topical soothing ointment we had in the house was tried with no success.
After Kira made it home, we decided I should take Avey to an urgent care center. I packed some ice cubes and we headed out. We found the clinic with little difficulty, saw that some lights were on inside, and there was a car parked outside. Unfortunately, the doors were locked. All of them. I knocked and we waited. I called the phone number only to get a recording telling me that they were open for at least another hour. I knocked again. I kicked. I knocked on windows. I called again to get the same recording.
We were running out of ice cubes, and I was running out of patience. I called another clinic, and they explained to me how to find them. By 10:30pm or so, we were signing in to be seen, and the staff were very helpful and polite.
The PA came and inspected Avey’s finger, gave us a prescription to fight infection, and sent us on our way. I still worried about the pain Avey would be in – we couldn’t keep her finger in a cup of cold water all night. But as soon as we made it to the discharge, the staff offered Avey some stickers. Her eyes lit up, she handed me her cup of cold water, and never took it back.
(Side note: We’re recording in widescreen now, but I can’t figure out a way to get blogger to display in widescreen, so I’m afraid our videos will look scrunched until I can figure it out)
I wonder if they teach that cure in medical school. I’m sure it really did hurt for a long time after the initial burn, but maybe after a couple of hours she was just convinced that it would hurt when she took it out of the cool. We’ll have to keep some cool stickers on hand for next time, if only to save us a little bit of a hassle.