Sometimes I feel like the worst mom. My roof had to be replaced after a bad hailstorm and the next day after the yard was rolled for nails I told the kids (who were house crazy) to go out and play. I told Garin, my 8-year-old, to run Jenyn around a bit as she was a little poky about exercise, and I would give him a dollar. They put on their shoes and I got involved in making dinner. A little while later I heard a “mom we are taking off our shoes” and a vague premonition of That Is Pretty Stupid floated across my distracted mind and floated right on out.
About 10 minutes later my son comes in screeching “Mom you have to come NOW, Jenyn has a nail in her foot”!!! I dropped everything and ran out to see my 3-year-old crawling on her hands and knees toward the house and screeching, “Garin did this he runned after me with a sword and I got scared and I runned away and fell off the wall onto a nail mommy, and it hurts so much!”
I looked at her foot to see the end of an enormous roofing nail sticking out of her foot. I could see the end of the point side making a bruise on top of her foot. Pure panic. I began to shake really hard. Doesn’t matter whether I have a medical background, my kid was impaled by a horrible device. I grabbed her an ran to my car, sobbing so hard I could hardly see. In a more rational frame of mind, I would have asked my mom (who lives across the street) to drive us to the ER. Too much time. I had to get there NOW. Jenyn’s pain was my pain. I drove the three longest miles in history possessed, my mantra “It’s ok honey we are almost there” over and over and over. Jenyn’s mantra, “Bad Garin, BAD GARIN, he scared me and hurted my foot!” No, I did this. I should have been out there. I misjudged and gave my son power to terrorize a little girl. At the ER, I stopped and flung myself out of the car and ran in like a wild woman screaming for help. I have to say they were very swift to help her, although every minute without pain medicine was just pure agony for me. Unfortunately the trauma surgeon was occupied, so the nail had to come out in the ER. A Gastly 30 minutes. I have never seen a roofing nail. I didn’t know that they had spikes going off in different directions like a tree to keep the nail in the roof.
Jenyn recovered without infection, and the memory is dim. We still have the nail and the x-ray, and when I tell this story and get out the evidence there is a general moment of complete silence.
Jenyn had one nail impaled, Jesus had four. From my experience I cannot imagine the pain. But my daughter does, and her experience has given her a special insight into a small part of the pain that He suffered!