Horton Hears a Yell…and other life lessons Part 1

On Saturday March 15th, my daughter (6), two nephews (2 & 6), mom (65) and me (39) went to IHOP at the pleading of the little people. Turns out they have a coveted “Horton Hears a Who” pancake special that includes carbs (to turn into sugar) and candy sugar (lollipop) and special topping (sugar disguised as yogurt). We reluctantly acquiesced.We were seated and perusing the menu when our waitress took our drink order. Coffee for me, tea for mom, and an unfortunate beverage in honor of the celebrated movie that included sprite and jell-o blobs who-se name I can’t recall.Shortly thereafter our waitress stood behind me and proceeded, unannounced to lower a carafe of boiling water for tea over my shoulder. Not realizing this was happening I turned around and the waitress spilled this two-cup pot of boiling water down my shirt and into my lap. So I did what any mother, aunt and daughter would in this situation. I jumped up with a yell, and proceeded to try and pull my pants away from the searing flesh of my crotch. (pretty graphic, huh?) Okay, how is this – I jumped up with a yell and proceeded to pull my now saturated pants away from me. Vague yet understood I think? I’m going to stand by the first. This calls for graphic exposition here.It’s amazing how shock keeps one in a clueless state. Don’t get me wrong, shock is definitely helpful. Had I not been in shock I may have ripped off my clothes and created an entirely different scene. At least I would have gotten the medical attention I required. In this case however my mom was in shock too. Once my clothing cooled down I realized I couldn’t get comfortable sitting… though I assumed it was because my clothing was soaking wet. My mom suggested I go to the doctor… and I said why… I’m not going to sue anyone. (“Maybe you should check to see if you are seriously burned“a not shock-ed person might have suggested.) But there I was, sitting in my wet clothes, starting to feel pain in my “underneath” suggesting we call Norm, (mom’s husband) to drive over a change of clothes while we consider the menu options while the waitress implies that had I not moved, this wouldn’t have happened.So, should I cut to the chase or is this worthy of details?? How about I’ll continue on with the details…and if you find this tedious… you can skip to the end which summarized all that I’m about to say. Great… everyone is happy.Of course the managerial staff was over in a jiffy offering that my meal would be free.. small consolation to say they least. I was looking at the menu apathetically as the waitress once again lowered a pot of boiling water over my shoulder, this time announcing “Be careful with this one.” I was clear enough to realize how in appropriate this statement was. And the manager was back offering my mom’s meal gratis. Forget the free meals! How about some basic first aid!Had we not been sitting with the kids we would have gotten up an left the scene immediately. But they had ordered their Horton sugar specials and were anxiously awaiting its arrival and my shock was keeping me from any serious decision making.It’s amazing how protective it can be for the body to shut down… yet rather immobilizing as well. We called the manager to watch the children while Mom and I went to the bathroom to get a closer look. She thought she saw blistering, but wasn’t sure. And the shock… no decision making continues.So Norm (step-father) arrives with a change of clothes and I finally realized that I wanted to go home to get some ice. Considering the personal nature of the injury…it seemed like the most private option. I wasn’t thinking clearly yet, but I could feel what might be pain start to kick in. Helping Madeline cope with what she just witnessed had not even entered my radar yet. She was in her own shock and I hadn’t completely realized what happened myself. So Norm comes and takes my place. I leave and start to drive home. Feeling something that is getting closer to pain, I call my husband who is in Denver at a conference. He is the voice of reason and concern and guides me to my Dr.’s office which is on my way home.After about an hour of standing (sitting isn’t an option anymore) in my Dr.’s waiting room (another story!) my mom came to comfort and assist (thankfully!) …and I’m brought to the back where we wait another 30 minutes before I’m given an ice pack. The nurse setting me up inquires location and then says “you were burned on your booty?” (That expression has risen from its rap slang origins, to the elementary school sect and now to medicine!) 15 minutes later and the doctor comes to see me. She confirms that I have 2nd degree burns on my upper-upper legs (really my booty) and a 1st degree burn on my breast. Prescribes Vicadin and Silvidine cream and I’m off and gingerly limping.Feeling more pain…and wondering how Madeline is dealing. She’s off watching the Horton movie with her cousins. It’s day two of the release and she is already on her second viewing. The marketing has paid off big in this house…and we have surrendered!It was a day later that I realized what went wrong at IHOP.

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