After supper tonight, while we were discussing which movie to chill out to (Strawberry Shortcake was the flick of her choice), Carolyn somehow or other managed to fall or jump off of our couch (she was wiggling at least) and land with a sickening thud against the edge of our rocking chair.
So we took our second trip to Urgent Care this week. The first was to get antibiotics for a nasty case or bronchitis. Carolyn has been in the same cubicle in the ER THREE different times now. Each time she's had to be held down for something. Now when we walk in there she says, "I don't like this room! I want to get out of this room!"
The nurse asked at one point if my husband was here. I shook my head no and she said, "They never are when this happened." Yep. This IS a Naval community.
Anyway, it was a rough night, but we finished it out with a stop for ice cream and Dora Bandaids, and that seemed to help. She's fascinated with looking at her wound in the mirror. What can I say? Carolyn is hardcore.
Right after we got home. Notice the Hello Kitty bandaid. Doesn't she look like she's been through a war?
Six stitches.
