Apparently it’s Medical Week at the Reneau homestead. The Muse and Dolittle are spending the night at a friend’s house tonight. The mom called this evening and said that The Muse had gotten hit in the mouth with a plastic golf club and split her lip. As soon as she said she thought she might need a stitch, I knew it was going to be a long night for her. The Muse, bless her soul, does not handle anything involving needles. At her doctor’s appointment, the mere mention of the possibility of having a blood test to check for celiac disease had her in tears, practically hyperventilating. I told the mom that they’d probably have to sedate her before they’d be able to get near her mouth with sutures.
But, as kids often do in the face of challenge, The Muse rose to the occasion. I really wished I could have been there for her, but at the same time, I think it might have been good that I wasn’t. She had no choice but to find her own courage, and she did. And she did great, didn’t freak out once they got the clinic, and came through the whole thing (three numbing shots and five stitches) with flying colors. I spoke to The Muse on the phone and she said, “It was awesome!” She was clearly proud of herself. Before she went in, when she was still in her panic state, The Muse had told me she wanted to come home. After the stitches were done, I asked if she still wanted to come home, and she said, “Not really. As long as no one else hits me in the face with a golf club.” ☺