Year of the Constant Disaster, more likely. We left quickly. I dropped off everyone else but the injured party and took her to urgent care at the clinic. We waited in the crowded Saturday night reception area, talked about school for distraction until she cried silently, trying not to look at the people staring at her bare foot, toes wrapped in dampened restaurant napkins. When we were ushered into a room, she looked around at all the equipment, sobbing now, and I talked.
All emergency rooms look scary.
I told her I was scared the last time I was in a room like this, two weeks before she was born, when severe carpal tunnel syndrome was aggravated by my pregnancy to the point that I had nerve damage in my thumbs. I couldn't hold a fork, brush my teeth or drive. I joked about how today, my numb, feeling-free fingers are often useful, as when I can handle hot pans without protective gloves. But she asked why I didn't get medicine back then, in that emergency room. She was so impressed.