Honestly, how many posts can I write about peenies? With three boys, I am sure the number is bigger than I or anyone else wants to guess, so please forgive me. The peenie is a regular part of our daily discussions which means that from time to time I will post about it. However, I will just try to not make back to back peenie posts in the future:)
The other night at approximately 5:53 pm I heard an annoying sort of crying coming from Sam down the hall. I say annoying not because I was annoyed he was crying but because it just wasn't a full on cry but just a whiny sort of noise. At that very moment I was actually changing a pasty, poopy diaper which made me wonder what Sam could possibly be whining about that was worse than my current situation. About a minute later Sam rounded the corner with his pants around his ankles. I looked up to see his "Sammie" (ok, we don't call it that at home but I was kind of tired of saying peenie so we will use both interchangeably during this post:)) bleeding. I mean, the thing was in trouble! And, I am not sure that until the moment I looked at it, Sam had either. Maybe it was a defense mechanism until he could seek first aid, but at about the same time I looked at it, Sam did and then the crying, real crying began. I tried to ask him was had happened and got bits and pieces of a story about closing the toilet lid on it and then something about falling off the toilet. It was all very confusing and nauseating really. I decided that the details of the injury could wait but that some medical attention was needed. Unfortunately, that wasn't really what Sam had in mind. He didn't want it touched or looked at unless it was by Jesus himself who could heal it in an instant! So, I did the only thing I knew to do that would maybe help which was spray it with some numbing medicine (It is the stuff they give women when they have babies to help heal her precious region but I would never tell the boys that what works for my parts also works for theirs!), I gave him some Advil for the pain, popped some popcorn and started a movie. Honestly, I knew only two of the four of these steps would help Sam but I just needed a moment to think and was hungry. Just kidding! Anyway, since this is not my area of expertise, I decided Brent needed to be involved in this so I tried his cell but of course since this is like the one part of the body that the boys have that I don't and therefore I will never understand, he didn't answer. He had decided to try an exercise class at the gym that started at 6:00 pm and of course this injury happened at 5:53pm. So, next I tried cleaning the region without touching which meant spraying it down with a water bottle. Sam seemed ok with it. His only complaint was that my head was in the way and he couldn't see the movie. So, after careful assessment and a few calls to my parents and Brent's parents, I decided that it would probably be ok just needed a little TLC, Advil, and vagina numbing spray:) Well around 7:00, Brent arrives home and I inform him of the situation. He gave it a quick once over and informed me that I should have taken Sam to someone. In my mind I am thinking about how I could have possibly carried a 1 year-old on one hip and a 4 year-old who can't bend or wear pants because his penis is bleeding on the other? (The 1 year-old can walk but he currently likes to walk in the exact opposite direction of anywhere I need to go.) But, I didn't say what I was thinking, instead I said that I was fine for Sam to go somewhere I just needed some help watching the other kids. He then said something about me specifically needing to take Sam because after all, I would be caring for it during the day and things. Ok, that made sense. I made a call to the doctor and got an appointment for 8:00 pm. As we waited to leave for our appt. time, Brent kind of wandered around but said very little. I thought to myself that maybe he was mad that I hadn't taken Sam somewhere already. I asked him what was wrong. He proceeded to tell me that he was sick to his stomach. No he didn't have food poisoning or the flu, it was Sam, well Sammie that was making him ill! The thought and idea of Sam's injury was making Brent nauseous. He couldn't even look at Sam without feeling sick which was the real reason why I was taking Sam to the doctor and not Brent.
Boys! I think that this is what God meant when He said that He would create a helper for Adam. Had I been out of town, Will would have had to call 911 because I am certain Brent would have needed medical attention had he needed to address Sam's unfortunate injury.
So, Sam and I went to the doctor. She took a look and thought that proper cleaning, ointment application, and time would remedy this situation. When I returned home and told Brent of the doctors treatment plan he questioned if it didn't need a stitch. I told him that I didn't think so and that I was sure that the doctor would have suggested it if she thought it was necessary. Brent's response, "It was a woman doctor? It figures!"
Although Brent has no problem with females physicians, he clearly felt that had it been a male doctor, more attention would have been given to this particular ailment! Mind you that Brent has never had an issue with my male doctor removing one of Brent's children from my girlie region. He doesn't mention how wrong it is that a man invented the tampon. Strange? Personally, I found it all, not the injury but Brent's reaction to the injury and treatment, humorous. I guess what he is saying might not be practical but maybe makes sense. When it comes to medical problems, women physicians should not take care of penises because we will never fully understand them. On the other hand, male physicians should never tend to a woman's brain, they will never fully understand that:)
The other night at approximately 5:53 pm I heard an annoying sort of crying coming from Sam down the hall. I say annoying not because I was annoyed he was crying but because it just wasn't a full on cry but just a whiny sort of noise. At that very moment I was actually changing a pasty, poopy diaper which made me wonder what Sam could possibly be whining about that was worse than my current situation. About a minute later Sam rounded the corner with his pants around his ankles. I looked up to see his "Sammie" (ok, we don't call it that at home but I was kind of tired of saying peenie so we will use both interchangeably during this post:)) bleeding. I mean, the thing was in trouble! And, I am not sure that until the moment I looked at it, Sam had either. Maybe it was a defense mechanism until he could seek first aid, but at about the same time I looked at it, Sam did and then the crying, real crying began. I tried to ask him was had happened and got bits and pieces of a story about closing the toilet lid on it and then something about falling off the toilet. It was all very confusing and nauseating really. I decided that the details of the injury could wait but that some medical attention was needed. Unfortunately, that wasn't really what Sam had in mind. He didn't want it touched or looked at unless it was by Jesus himself who could heal it in an instant! So, I did the only thing I knew to do that would maybe help which was spray it with some numbing medicine (It is the stuff they give women when they have babies to help heal her precious region but I would never tell the boys that what works for my parts also works for theirs!), I gave him some Advil for the pain, popped some popcorn and started a movie. Honestly, I knew only two of the four of these steps would help Sam but I just needed a moment to think and was hungry. Just kidding! Anyway, since this is not my area of expertise, I decided Brent needed to be involved in this so I tried his cell but of course since this is like the one part of the body that the boys have that I don't and therefore I will never understand, he didn't answer. He had decided to try an exercise class at the gym that started at 6:00 pm and of course this injury happened at 5:53pm. So, next I tried cleaning the region without touching which meant spraying it down with a water bottle. Sam seemed ok with it. His only complaint was that my head was in the way and he couldn't see the movie. So, after careful assessment and a few calls to my parents and Brent's parents, I decided that it would probably be ok just needed a little TLC, Advil, and vagina numbing spray:) Well around 7:00, Brent arrives home and I inform him of the situation. He gave it a quick once over and informed me that I should have taken Sam to someone. In my mind I am thinking about how I could have possibly carried a 1 year-old on one hip and a 4 year-old who can't bend or wear pants because his penis is bleeding on the other? (The 1 year-old can walk but he currently likes to walk in the exact opposite direction of anywhere I need to go.) But, I didn't say what I was thinking, instead I said that I was fine for Sam to go somewhere I just needed some help watching the other kids. He then said something about me specifically needing to take Sam because after all, I would be caring for it during the day and things. Ok, that made sense. I made a call to the doctor and got an appointment for 8:00 pm. As we waited to leave for our appt. time, Brent kind of wandered around but said very little. I thought to myself that maybe he was mad that I hadn't taken Sam somewhere already. I asked him what was wrong. He proceeded to tell me that he was sick to his stomach. No he didn't have food poisoning or the flu, it was Sam, well Sammie that was making him ill! The thought and idea of Sam's injury was making Brent nauseous. He couldn't even look at Sam without feeling sick which was the real reason why I was taking Sam to the doctor and not Brent.
Boys! I think that this is what God meant when He said that He would create a helper for Adam. Had I been out of town, Will would have had to call 911 because I am certain Brent would have needed medical attention had he needed to address Sam's unfortunate injury.
So, Sam and I went to the doctor. She took a look and thought that proper cleaning, ointment application, and time would remedy this situation. When I returned home and told Brent of the doctors treatment plan he questioned if it didn't need a stitch. I told him that I didn't think so and that I was sure that the doctor would have suggested it if she thought it was necessary. Brent's response, "It was a woman doctor? It figures!"
Although Brent has no problem with females physicians, he clearly felt that had it been a male doctor, more attention would have been given to this particular ailment! Mind you that Brent has never had an issue with my male doctor removing one of Brent's children from my girlie region. He doesn't mention how wrong it is that a man invented the tampon. Strange? Personally, I found it all, not the injury but Brent's reaction to the injury and treatment, humorous. I guess what he is saying might not be practical but maybe makes sense. When it comes to medical problems, women physicians should not take care of penises because we will never fully understand them. On the other hand, male physicians should never tend to a woman's brain, they will never fully understand that:)
2 comments:
Wow! And how come I didn't get a call? I wouldn't have had a clue...but I am pretty sure I wouldn't have thought to take him to the doc. Wow! So did you get the poop cleaned up before you rushed to Sam. That must have been quite a moment, both things needing immediate attention. That is why I LOVE your latest post! So so so very true. You are a fantastic mom, so loving and nurturing. I would've probably said "you're fine! suck it up!" well, maybe if I saw the blood, I might have had a little more mercy. If it any consolation, Ragan would've most likely been upset that emergency techs didn't see it too.Peenie's ARE indeed serious business.
Wow! Poor Sam :( Though it's unfortunate for Sam, the whole incident is rather comical reading about it later.
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