Needless to say, my phone was still not in and I could tell the guy was scared to tell me, so he just said, "You are in luck mam." (Big pet peeve, because it makes me feel like I am super old and I was clearly only 3 years older then this Sprint dude.) "They sent you an upgrade." (Lie #2 - He just grabbed a phone to shut me up and get me out of his store.) "It is the new HTC EVO 3D. Would you like me to set up your contacts? It will only take10 minutes." (Lie #3 This young man, since I am so much his elder, was not familiar with this "new phone" and he struggled greatly to set up my contacts.) It did take 10 minutes, plus another 25. The boy and girl were starving and it was time to go! Irritated and frustrated because my poor babies were so hungry, I left with a new phone that I had no idea how to use, but I was thankful to at least have a phone back.
We rush home to be greeted by Deuce. Feed him his dinner quick so I could get him from following me around, as it was already 20 minutes past his normal dinnertime. I put on the Jungle Book for my babies to watch as I was in a hurry to get dinner started. Afton, content to watch a movie at any chance she gets, but Jack was in the mood to play. He rushed upstairs to play with Deuce, as he did every night when we got home. He loved Deuce and Deuce loved him. They played fetch in the front room. I watched them for a few minutes and then went to check on the boiling water, to see if it was time to add the ravioli. As I was adding a dash of salt, the game of fetch shifted from one side of the room to the other. I began to walk into the living room and then I heard Deuce snap. It was a loud snap, and it scared me. As I turned the corner, Deuce had run the other direction and straight to his kennel. Jack was falling over into the wall, and I caught him, just before he hit the ground. I picked him up to calm him and wipe away his tears. Within seconds, as I was walking with him from one side of the room to the other, his face was covered in blood. Deuce had bit him. He snapped and Jack was hurt badly.
I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to use my phone. I began screaming to Afton, "Get in the car. Run baby!" I was going to put them in the car and drive to the hospital. I thought that was a good idea. Then as I grabbed my keys I knew that it would be too long. Too long to get them in, buckle them up, drive to a hospital. Jack was losing a lot of blood, so that was a bad idea. I began to scream for my neighbor. "DEB! DEB! DEB!" Retired military, this woman knew everything and would be my best bet for quick help. She heard me screaming through her bathroom window and I yelled, "Deuce bit Jack." She yelled to her partner, Allana to open the door. She quickly did. (Later I found out that Allana does not do well with blood, so Deb was shocked that she was able to help out instead of pass out on the kitchen floor beside us.) In hysteria I said, "Do I call an ambulance?" They both responded in unison, "Yes!" I handed Deb my phone and said, "I don't know how to use it. It's new." She couldn't find her house phone, but was able to find her cell to quickly call an ambulance.
I sat with Jack, literally holding his face together as he was screaming and crying uncontrollably. Afton had stopped crying at this point and was just watching. Watching her brother bleed; watching me cry, and watching me rock back in forth trying to comfort her little brother as best I could. I tried my best to stay calm for her, and to help assure Jack that it was going to be okay, even though I had no idea what to think, what was happening, or what to do.
Within 10 minutes, the paramedics were there. As we were about to get into the ambulance, animal control showed up. They had come to take my dog. Our family pet, who we have all loved for the last 4 years. "You can't take my dog. You can't go in my house. My dog is an attack dog and he is not locked in his kennel. He is trained to attack an intruder and he will get you. I will go in and lock him in his kennel. I also need to turn off my stove. You can come for my dog tomorrow." I knew in my heart that this was an accident. Deuce has very big teeth and they just got my very little boy. He would not intentionally hurt my boy, but it happened. And the truth is, I don't know exactly what happened. I don't know if Jack poked him, pulled him, or what. I just know that this night was by far the worst night of my life.
Once I returned to the ambulance, a fireman approached me. The kind paramedic had handed me my son back. The next thing I was heard was the fireman asking in a judgmental tone, "Are you sure you are comfortable with leaving your daughter with your neighbor?" I politely said, "I trust my neighbor and my daughter is in good hands." What I wanted to say was, "Look dick, I have no choice here. Do I allow my daughter to ride in the 'fun' ambulance and hear her brother cry hysterically as the paramedics try and determine if he has lost his eye for good? Do I let her watch me cry hysterically because I feel like the worst mom in the world because this happened to my boy while I was home? Do I let her watch them stick needles and other fun things in him? Or Do I trust my neighbor's whose house I ran to in this stressful situation?" In retrospect, I know he was just trying to help because there are too many SICK people in the world, but it was just one more thing to make me feel like a STELLAR mom that day.
"His eyes are tracking. He is responding. He can feed off your energy. You need to calm down. He is very lucky. You both are. Please calm down." The paramedic, who was definitely LDS, was heaven sent. He was able to get me to calm down. He helped Jack calm down, as best as he could. That was until we were being wheeled through the emergency room.
Just some words of advice. If you ever find yourself in an emergency room and someone is being wheeled in on a gurney, with an infant child whose face is still covered in blood, do your best not to gasp in horror! Or even the "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh no," is NOT appreciated. I know you mean well, but let me explain. I am trying to stay calm. I can not see my child's face, but I have a really good view of your face as you sit in the emergency room as we are wheeled past you. My ears even still work so the reactions you have definitely affect my ability to stay calm. The poor paramedic had to calm me down all over again. Jack was still in so much pain and hating that I was holding his face, that he was not bothered by the people expressing their concern. Again, in retrospect, I know they were just trying to show sympathy and concern for my sweet boy, but it was just ONE MORE THING to make me feel like a STELLAR mom that day.
Are you wondering how come I have not mentioned anything about my sugar yet? Well, that is because I have not yet talked to him. He had just started a job a couple weeks ago, so he is no longer the awesome stay at home daddy. Also, I don't have my phone. I left it at Deb's house. My neighbor Scott called my sugar just as the ambulance pulled away. He called frantic and did his best to explain the situation as he knew it. Unfortunately he said that Deb's dogs bit Jack. (He had the story all wrong, but was trying his best to be helpful.) When my sugar got home to pick up Afton, he contemplated attacking Deb for "Always letting her dogs roam free. How could you let this happen? Your dogs did this to my boy!" But he held his tongue, and GOOOOOD thing he did. That would have been just ONE MORE THING to make this night even more "magical." (I hope you can sense my sarcasm.)
Grandma Jones arrived at the hospital first. She did her best not to react like the folks in the emergency room, but it was a challenge. She knew she needed to be strong. She held my hand and soothed Jack as the nurse helped clean his wounds. I was so thankful to have my mommy there. I used her phone to call my sugar. He was on his way, and I couldn't wait.
The whole time we waited, Jack laid on my tummy with his back to me he held my hand tight. He wanted his mommy and I was so thankful that I was there. In that moment, I knew that my boy loved me. That he wanted to snuggle me to help him feel better. He knew I loved him more than anything in the world and that he had my heart, and always will.
Daddy arrived. Afton remained in the waiting room, with my brother, and other family that had come to show support. As he walked in the room, he instantly teared up. Jack did too. He was torn, as we all were. So much anger and hatred towards Deuce. So thankful that Jack was alive. So worried about what happens next. Daddy was glad to be there to listen to the doctors and glad to hear that Jack's eye was perfectly fine. It definitely was a miracle that Deuce did not even scratch his eyeball. He had sliced in 3 different sections on his right eye; under and above the eye ball near the nose, on the eyelid towards his cheek. Not to mention he looked like, THE JOKER, for lack of a better explanation. His lip and cheek were torn about 2 1/2 inches. Under his chin, Deuce had managed to put a puncture wound where one of his teeth went clear into his chin. Oh, and let's not forget, his teeth were not at all in the right places and his tongue was completely lacerated, almost in half.
Daddy got the first picture of my poor boy's face.
I told the doctors that night that Deuce had helped Jack get his teeth up top to come through, trying to make a joke of it, since Jack had always been a terrible teether. Clearly I was so out of it that night, as I had completely forgot that Jack had had those teeth since he was 7 months old. (So Deuce truly did not help, in any way at all that night.)
Picture taken 2 days before at Bonnie Springs - See his beautiful teeth and smile!
As we waited for the plastic surgeon to arrive, my brother made his way back to check on us. He, like everyone else, was taken back. He maintained his facial expressions the best out of all visitors, however. After providing words of support, encouragement, and love, he went back out to the waiting room to make sure that everyone was up to speed as to what was happening.
A little while later, John and Allison came to check on sweet Jack. They were optimistic and thankful that Jack's eye would be okay. Mitchell and Tanner stayed in the waiting room, so as to protect Tanner. He has a tendency to not do well with blood or anything gruesome so it was best for him to stay out. Turns out, he must have got that quality from his mom, who quickly had to lie down in the bed next to Jack as she went pale and was going to pass out. (Side note: Mitchell and Tanner came to see Jack after the surgery that night, once he was all cleaned up and Mitchell, not Tanner, totally passed out. He went stiff as a board, fell backwards and hit his head on the tray table where they had some medical tools placed for the surgery. Tanner, however, was fine!)
The plastic surgeon, Dr. Sohn arrived, and he was very reassuring. He was confident that Jack would heal with very little scarring. He expressed how truly lucky he was that Deuce did not get his eye. He invited my sugar to watch as he stitched up Jack, which made my husband overjoyed. (What a weirdo!) He also shared that in his entire working career, it is at least once a month that he is called in to work on a case just like this where, "the family dog bites a child, but would never mean to harm anyone." He explained that every time his little son asks for a dog, he has to always tell him, " No," very assuredly.
They did the surgery right there in that room. I stepped out, as I had already seen enough this evening. My sugar watched; he was most interested in the part where they would have to remove my son's top 3 front teeth, as this was having to do with dental "stuff," and my sugar had just received his acceptance to UNLV Dental School earlier that month. However, he stepped out to let me know how things were going in the middle of the procedure, and Dr. Sohn had removed his teeth in the brief 5 minutes my sugar was gone. Bummer.
Resting and waiting for the anesthesia to wear off.
The nurses said that Jack would be back to normal by the next day. He would be running around and being the same little crazy boy that he was before the accident. I thought they were crazy. But, they were right. My boy was back to normal. He was my same sweet, crazy little boy. He struggled with eating, but his threshold for pain was amazing. He made me look like such a pansy, as I was basically worthless for 3-4 days after having pinky surgery 5 years back.
Day 1 After the Incident
Week After the Incident
Above all, I will never forget the time I spent snuggling my boy those next few days during his naps and bedtime. It was hard for him to sleep, as he has always been a restless and wild sleeper, so I held him in my arms. I would sing to him and he would gently touch my cheek. I would fight back tears on most occasions, but others, tears reigned triumphant. Crying tears of joy because my boy was safe. He was still here. He still could see. He would have a few scars and would have to sing, "All I Want for Christmas is My 3 Front Teeth" for 7-8 years, but who doesn't love that song, right? He was able to comfort me with his sweet little touch of his hand on my cheek. I also cried tears of sadness because what do we do about Deuce? He was our family too. We knew that we couldn't keep him, but it was still hard to let go. (Deuce has since been rescued and is currently living with a dog trainer up in Reno. Yay!)
So what a difference a year makes. I truly felt my Savior's love that night. I do again this night as I reflect back on that dreadful evening. We truly have so much to be thankful for. I am thankful for Sprint that at least gave me a phone to make me happy, my sweet neighbors, the inspired and compassionate paramedic, my family, sweet nurses, gifted hands of a surgeon, and most of all, my boy.
This is my sweet boy today, 1 year after the incident.
I love you Jack boy!
