lessons form the e.r.

It's been a long week and I am officially tired of seeing the wonderful staff at SkyRidge hospital. This evening W got angry and threw sand at Ev. Lots of the sand went in Ev's eyes. My poor little boy was screaming and screaming and screaming. We did our best to flush his eyes but at 4 it is difficult to understand and to stay still. I thought I had gotten it all out. Ev fell asleep on my lap after dinner but woke up rather abruptly screaming that his eyes hurt. I pulled back his eyelid to see that there was still a nice amount of sand in there. I called the pediatrician, they say go to the e.r. to have his eyes flushed and to do a test to make sure the cornea wasn't scratched.  Hubby stayed with the other 2 kids (it was after all, past bedtime by this point.) As I walked in with Ev who was now happy and smiling again, I couldn't help but think, "Weren't we just here with Daddy? They must know my name by now!" I also wondered how this hospital has already eaten up our FSA through the insurance. So much for the hearing aids, they must wait till next year I suppose. But I digress.

So my outgoing little boy has made friends with 2 people in the waiting room, the front desk staff, both triage nurses, the e.r. doctor, the pediatric nurses and the boy in the room to the left of us before they even treat him. He tried terribly hard to convince the doctor that he felt all better and she didn't need to look at his eyes anymore. When she put the numbing drops in his eyes I had to help hold him down. I leaned over his legs and held his hands while the nurse held his head still and his eye open. He screamed and tried to kick and did everything he could to get us off of him. Then they had to put the dye in his eye so they could check for corneal scratching. Again we all held him and this time he screams, "I want my Daddy!" Talk about heart wrenching! Thankfully the scratches that are on his cornea are all superficial and will heal quickly. Then they have to rinse his eyes out. This was the worst part. Two male nurses, both significantly big men and bigger than Daddy, were needed to do this part. One held Ev's head and thought that having Ev lay on his hands would keep him from moving them. I know better so again I helped hold down my son so they could treat him. He was screaming, begging us to stop hurting his eyes. It was a mother's nightmare, hearing your child beg you to stop hurting him when you know that what is happening is actually not hurting but helping.

This isn't the first time that I have walked this road with one of my children. When W was 3 we had an experience that also involved me holding him down for a doctor to treat a wound. He looked me in the eyes, crying and said, "Mommy, please tell my doctor to stop hurting me! Please tell her NOW!" Nothing is harder as a parent. I also have had to hold JJ down for various medical testing. My children look to me to protect them and at that moment, in their eyes not only was I not protecting them, I was helping someone hurt them. But I knew something that they didn't. I know that had the sand remained in Ev's eyes the scratches could have become deeper and caused serious damage. I know that what Ev saw as hurting him was actually helping him. I saw the big picture. Because I saw the big picture, I knew that temporary pain was necessary to help his eyes heal. Because I saw the big picture, I held him down and forced him to experience something he didn't like to avoid something that could have been dangerous.

Do you think that someone else may see the bigger picture? Do you think it could be possible that sometimes God allows us to go through uncomfortable or even painful things because He knows that if we stay on the path of destruction that a much worse fate awaits us? I didn't hold my children down because I enjoy hearing them scream or because I have fun seeing them hurt. I held them down so that they could get the medical treatment that they needed to heal. I held them down so that there wasn't permanent damage done to their bodies. I was actually protecting them though I know they didn't see it that way at the time. My question is this, how often is our Father also allowing us to experience something yucky, something that we may have seen as Him not protecting us or maybe even as Him hurting us, so that He can keep us from permanent damage? Though it is not fun to hurt, maybe just maybe, not everything that hurts is bad after all.