In August my 4-year-old Z stepped in some glass and got a little piece stuck in the heel of his foot (or so we think it was glass). We went to the pedi, who sent us to a pediatric surgeon, who then proceeded to take it out (or so he thought he took it out). Z didn’t have any stitches and was walking normally after a few days.

Well, it looks whatever was in there didn’t come out because a little ball the size of a Skittle formed on his heel. It kind of looked like a wart. Although he could walk normally, he would cry whenever anyone tried to touch it.

We went back to the pediatric surgeon who said he’d have to put him to sleep (aka general anesthesia) to take it out. We agreed to do it today, so we arrived a little before 9am like we were told. The procedure took place in a little room, and I waited outside by the door while the hubs went with our other 2 kiddos to the cafeteria to get something to eat. The whole procedure took about 20 minutes, and I was surprised that we were able to go home 30 minutes after it was done. However, that doesn’t mean that I didn’t want to pass out… twice.

First, near the end of the surgery while I was still waiting by the door, one of the nurses walked out with a chunk of tissue (“tissue” = a chunk of Z’s heel) on a gauze and said something like, “This is what the doctor took out.” When I saw the bloody marble-sized chunk of human flesh in her hand on the gauze, I felt the blood drain from my face and looked as if I had just seen someone carrying a severed leg, not a small piece of human tissue. DESIRE TO PASS OUT #1. That moment reiterated to me for the 26,000th time why I could never be a doctor (read: I hate blood, wounds, etc.). BBRRRRR.

When Z was all done, they wheeled him out on one of those hospital beds and told us that we could go home after 30 minutes had passed. He woke up crying because his foot really hurt. They gave him some pain meds, but he continued to cry the entire 30 minutes. By the time it was time to go home, the hubs had come back and said that we should take off the cotton ball that was taped to the inside of his arm at the crease (where the IV was during surgery). I told him we could do that later, but the hubs insisted on doing it now. He told Z that he would yank it all off in one swift move to make it hurt less. I kept telling the hubs we should do it later or maybe even ask a nurse to do it. The hubs didn’t listen, and when Z was ready, the hubs yanked it off – and BLOOD STARTED SPLATTERING EVERYWHERE.

What happened? Apparently, the medical personnel left the plastic tube IV needle thing in his arm, and when the hubs ripped off tape, the IV thing came out of his vein, causing a fountain of blood to continuously squirt in the air. DESIRE TO PASS OUT #2.

I ran over next door and started begging someone to come over and “stop the blood”. A nurse came over and taped a new cotton ball on his arm and told us to apply pressure to it to stop the blood. The hubs’s hands looked like he just dipped them in red paint, so he went to wash them. Seriously, shoot me now why don’t you.

It’s nighttime here in Croatia, and Z is good now. He is getting around by crawling and hopping on one foot (and having us carry him). He gets his stitches out in 6 days. Until then, no showering and no walking on that foot. I really hope that whatever was in there is out for good this time!

I really wish I never have to see the surgeon again, but with 3 kids the chances of that happening are about as good as Kim Kardashian’s chances of never showing up on People.com again as a snowball’s chance in hell. It’s normal for kids to have “stuff” happen to them during childhood (ie: broken this, bruised that, foreign objects lodged in their __insert_body_part_, etc.), and I’m just going to have to come to terms with that. Regardless, it doesn’t mean that those accidents don’t break mommy’s heart (and make her want to pass out, too).

Has your child ever gone under the knife? How did you handle it?