Love & Anger… Sometimes they go hand in hand.

Have you ever been there?  So angry with someone you can’t stand it but at the same time you love them and feel bad for them?  It is not fun!!!  That is exactly the position I was in yesterday….and it really, really sucked.

*Note: There are a few pics but not pics of the actual wound.  I’m not going to post pics of the wound because there are just some things you can never “un-see” and if you are a parent, I promise you wouldn’t want to see this.

So our little man (will be 2 years on the 16th – yay!!) went to his aunt’s for the weekend.  She was super excited to get to spend the weekend with him and we had made plans with some friends.  All went as planned until the next morning around 11 am.  We were on our way to a charity event at our chiropractors office (and super in need of an adjustment!) when the Mister’s phone rings.  I could hear it was a woman’s voice but couldn’t tell who it was.  I kept singing along with the early 90’s music thinking about my upcoming crack-a-lackin (my Chiropractor hates it when I say that…).  The following 60 seconds were….well, uncomfortable.

The Mister: “Your’e fucking dog bit my son in the balls?!” (Got your attention? Yeah…it got mine too.)

Me: Gasp! Hand to mouth. Eyes wide.

The Mystery Voice: (who I now realize is my SIL because that is where our son was): “garble garble so sorry garble garble don’t know what to say garble garble.  (I only say garble garble because I could only make out words here and there – the rest of it was just garbled snippets.)

The Mister: “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Me: Now realizing this isn’t a sick joke. Hand still on mouth.  Eyes wide – now teary.

SIL: “garble garble puncture garble garble”

The Mister: Looking at me like he wants to punch someone out.

Me: “Is he ok?!”

The Mister: (@ me) “He got bit in the fucking balls!”

Me: Visibly wincing.

SIL: “garble garble so sorry garble garble”

The Mister: Still looking at me.

Me: “Just tell her to bring him home.”

The Mister: (@ SIL) “Just bring him home.”

SIL: “garble garble OK garble garble so sorry”

Phone goes silent.  Time stops.  The car is still moving, heading toward our chiropractor’s office where the promise of relief had earlier awaited us.  Neither of us wanting to go inside but both of us really needing too.  I really want to ask all kinds of questions but I know he needs a few minutes to himself.

We drive up, pass the bounce house and park right in front.  The Mister hands me $40 and says he doesn’t want to go in and have to talk to people, he’s just too pissed off.  I walked inside and there were about 12 people in the small lobby all carrying on quiet little conversations of their own – a low buzzing hum about the charity.  I step up to the reception area and hand them the money and tell them we can’t stay.  They have become very familiar with our family and can see I’m upset and ask what is wrong.  I explain that our little man was bit by a dog and is on his way home.  Then they asked me…. “Where did he get bit?”  As I look around to see who all is in ear shot – very near tears – I realize there is no other way to say it… so I answer, sigh…. “In the balls.”  Silence.  Every conversation stopped immediately and then every single person gasped.  Then, almost in unison, everyone said, “Is he ok?!”  I explained that we didn’t know the extent of the injuries and told the ladies in reception I would text them later and let them know how he was doing.

I get back to the car and can literally feel the thick atmosphere, which just adds to the overwhelming feeling of nausea that has begun to grow in my belly.  We start to head home and the thought occurred to me that our little man was going to need to be seen by a doctor and it might be best if my SIL just met us at the local ER.

Me: “Do you think he’ll need to go to the ER?”

The Mister: “He was bit in the fucking balls!”

Me: “Ok, why don’t you call your sister and tell her to meet us at the ER.”

The Mister: “Why don’t YOU call her.”

We got home and I called her to tell her to meet us there.  It was obvious she was crying and upset.  I was angry, confused, irritated….ugh. It just sucked.

When we got to the ER she had already checked him in and he was being looked at.  There were 3 people ahead of me in the check in line and by this point I had tons of questions, no answers and all I really wanted was my baby – I was not about to stand in line.  I told one of my nurses my son was already in the triage area and I thought it was the first room because I could hear my SIL.  She checked and he was in there.  I pushed past everyone and went in.  As soon as I saw him I wanted to cry….just for sheer relief that he was in my arms.  But I held on.  The triage nurse asked me if I was mom and I said yes as I was opening his diaper to take a peek.  She then told me that she had already had a look and it looked like a simple abrasion but they were going to take us back to a room to “let us” wait on a doctor to have a look at it – just incase.  Damn right you are!  It was not a simple abrasion!!  There were holes in my sons testicles!!!  There was blood, swelling….HOLES.  Dumb ass people – of course you are going to “let me” see a doctor!!

They lead us back to a room and tell us the nurse will be in to get his vitals in a moment.  There was silence in the room.  The 3 of us said nothing.  This was the first time we were all alone and the only thing that saved us all from a very nasty conversation was little mans disposition.  He seemed to be in good spirits and we wanted to keep him comfortable.  The nurse came in and did his vitals and took a peek at the “abrasion”.  She said the doctor would be right in.  We expected to be there a long time waiting – because that is what happens in ER’s – but the doctor walked in about 15 minutes later.  We just found out that SIL had left the only binky (pacifier) we had at her house.  I was trying to break him of the habit (which is why we were down to 1) but with the situation he really wanted that comfort.  I figured the gift shop in the hospital probably had some.

When the doctor came in he put gloves on and began to examine him asking questions about what happened.  SIL answered all the questions since we weren’t there and I watched the exam while holding little mans arms down.  At one point he doctor pulled one of the “holes” apart and I took in a sharp breath and said it looked really deep.  Then I asked if he was going to need stiches.  The doctor basically said that there really is no cosmetic need for stitches in that area and because he is still in diapers that it would raise the risk of infection.  I felt kind of dumb then…. I suppose there really is no need for it to look pretty….down there.  He also said he wanted to do an ultrasound to make sure there was no damage to the testes or a hematoma and wanted to give him an IV to get some antibiotics in him quick.

While we waited for the nurse to come in a woman came in to speak to us about the incident.  Thinking back I’m pretty sure she was a social worker sent in by CPS to see if there was any need to begin an investigation.  When she first came in she asked if we needed something from the nurse.  Little man had become very rambunctious at this point and I thought maybe I had hit the nurse call button by accident.  So I asked her if I did and she laughed and said no, she just wanted to make sure we were comfortable.  I mentioned to her that I needed to know where the gift shop was and why I needed it and she offered me a binky for free! (That is my favorite price!)  Less than 2 minutes later, he had a binky and was super happy.  Then the inquisition began…

The social worker asked what happened and I said that I didn’t know and pointed to my SIL.  She told the story of what happened.  In a nutshell – (no pun intended) she said they were watching a movie and he was squirming around and fell off the bed backwards into a basket of blankets.  She tried to grab him quickly to make sure he was ok and she thought maybe the dog was trying to help and just nipped him.  Ok…this is where I have a hard time with any sympathy for her.  I have never heard of a dog trying to “help” by “nipping” a toddler in the genitals.  First of all, the dog is known to snap at people and she should have known not to have him around little man.  Second of all, if a dogs teeth go THROUGH a diaper and puncture skin enough that the doctor would have done stitches had it not been for the unfortunate area – THAT IS NOT NIPPING!!!  That is full on (stupid ass dog) biting!!  And for her to try to defend her dog when my son is lying on the bed next to me bleeding with holes in his tiny little testicles – unacceptable.  I have a dog.  I love her.  But if she had biting tendencies I would either re-home her or at the very least keep her away from everyone – especially children.  Anyway, the social worker documented everything and said she had to report the dog bite to animal control per state law and that someone would be contacting us eventually for a statement.

Getting his IV

The IV was not fun…  I want to cry just thinking about it.  They did give him liquid hydrocodone to help him relax and they used some new technique to numb the injection site.  Even with all that – it was a tough 10 minutes. We all watched as one nurse held him down and the other did all of the “work”.  They put the IV in his arm and then put a splint like thing on it so he couldn’t bend his arm.  He was not happy about that.  SIL and I just cried silent tears (lots of them) while the Mister tried to get a good look at what was going on.  They hooked up the IV and started the meds.


After his IV

When that was all finished up we headed down to the ultrasound room and left SIL there to wait for the officer from Animal Control.  This is where I begin to feel sorry for my SIL.  We were friends long before her brother and I got together.  She has been my friend since 9th grade!  I know it breaks her heart that she let him get hurt.  I know it hurt her heart to hear him scream when they were holding him down to put in the IV.  I know she loves her dog and is worried about what might happen to him legally.


Just after the ultrasound – all smiles.

The ultrasound was absolutely, hands down his favorite part.  I suppose like most men having a nurse massage your balls for 20 minutes would make him happy.  I’m not an ultrasound tech or doctor but everything looked good to me for the most part on the screen – the right (wounded one) looked just like the left to me.  She did have a hard time finding blood flow on the wounded side, but his little testicles are so tiny it was tough.  She did finally get a good evident source of blood flow though.

When we got back to the room, SIL was very red-faced and had obviously been crying.  The animal control officer had talked to her and per Texas law her dog has to be quarantined for 10 days.  She has to pay for him to be in the kennel – so it was a financial and emotional hit all at once.  I asked her how much it was going to cost and she said it didn’t matter.  She said the only thing that mattered was that our little man was ok.  Her husband was taking the dog to the kennel right then.

After that we just had a long wait.  That sucked because we had to keep him happy with no food, no drink and nothing to do but the cartoons on the tiny TV.   The nurses did bring me some Sprite (because I felt so sick to my stomach) and coloring pages and a few crayons for little man.  They actually offered bubbles first, but I felt like that would cause a slip hazard so I asked if they had crayons instead.  There wasn’t a lot of conversation.  We all sat waiting on words from the doctor about what he learned from the ultrasound.  SIL continued to cry off and on, the Mister just played on his phone (and his Rubiks cube that he is determined to be able to master in less than 5 minutes – we are a total nerdy household.) and I tried to keep little man content while keeping friends and family up to date by text.

At one point, two techs came in to clean the wound.  That was a bit tough.  I held his hands and kissed his tears away (it was hard to look into his eyes so I tried to just whisper in his ears that it was going to be ok.  It was so very hard.)  They took what appeared to be a magic eraser of sorts and scrubbed the hell out of his little privates.  Makes me want to cry….again.  That probably was the worst for him because it had to be painful.  The IV and everything else was just a case of him being held down.  This guy was literally scrubbing his little balls like he was filing down a gorilla’s nails.  It was rough.  Then he had to slowly squirt 1/2 a bottle of this super cold antiseptic cleanser to clean off all the soap.  My poor baby – he was screaming and big crocodile tears were just rolling down his face as his eyes searched mine.  I know he didn’t understand why I was letting someone hurt him while I held him down.  Nausea is creeping up again as I type this and I have an overwhelming urge to go in his room and cuddle him in my arms and tell him how much I love him.  That would wake him up, keep him up all night and that means no sleep for me either.  Not a good idea….sigh.

We waited.  We colored.  We waited some more.  We wouldn’t let him eat the crayons – that made him sad…

IMG_1503 IMG_1504 IMG_1506

Finally, the doctor came back and said that he couldn’t find any evidence of damage to his testicles (thank God!) and that he was going to release us after the IV was taken out and we were given directions on wound care.  Taking the IV out wasn’t fun because of course it was taped down, but other than that it went fairly smooth and quick.  They sent us home with a prescription for a heavy antibiotic (because dog bites are so nasty) and told us basically to keep it clean.  It has to be washed with warm soap and water with each diaper change.

Three and a half hours (and lots of tears) later we were being dismissed.  She apologized to both of us and said that she didn’t know what else to say but that she was sorry.  I told her I loved her and I didn’t hate her – but I did not like the dog.  I told her that little man would not be allowed at her house as long as the dog was going to be there.  She said she understood that.  When our little man is old enough to kick the hell out of the dog if he goes to bite him – I MIGHT reconsider.  We always celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve at her house with the whole family.  This year we are prepared to tell her that we will not be coming unless the dog is not there.  I know that stinks but its the only thing I can think to do.  I’m angry with the dog – but I’m angry with her for treating her dog as if he is the master of the house… as if he makes the rules.  Dogs can be trained – this one was not trained properly.  Just a very unfortunate set of events.

And just for the record the two questions I’ve been getting the most since Saturday is:

1)  “Where did he get bitten” (because everyone expects the worst – the face – but then when I say “his balls” – their faces go blank and then sour almost immediately.)

2) “What kind of a dog was it” (because everyone expects the worst – pitbull, etc. – but when I take a deep breath, sigh a little and then say “Weenie dog….it was a weenie dog” – the expressions are priceless.  Should they laugh or not – no one is sure.)

Please don’t judge me.  This was a very unfortunate incident and I am sad, mad, angry, confused, hurt, bewildered and so many more things. Comedic affect is only to make me feel better so that I don’t cry when I think of the “What if’s”.  I am not trying to make this a funny situation.  There is no light way to put it – the fact that a weenie dog is the culprit behind biting my son in the nuts – is just too ironic to not mention.

The bottom line is, my little man is ok.  The relationship between my SIL, me and the Mister will survive.  People are human – they make mistakes – and the only thing we can do is praise God that this wasn’t as bad as it surely could have been, learn from the mistakes we’ve made and move on.