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11:12 p.m. - 2009-01-07
Ever feel like a wet, wrung-out rag?
Not to have one, but to feel as if you were one? I do. I know what it is like.

Biba and I have been home just over an hour from the emergency room. The ER. We're all right...

I had gotten back from Orkplace, bought broccoli from the market across the street, walked and fed Mr. Dog. As I was feeling particularly lazy, I drove down to pick up Biba. Met a few Mums and we were standling outside chatting while the children were horsing around when I heard the "Oh-oh" from one mother and saw that the crying child was Biba. She had fallen very hard onto a stone step corner. She had a hole in her head right above the right eyebrow and there was so much blood. And I felt myself going pale and said "OhmyGOD, ohmyGod" but then realised that I had to get it together immediately because Biba was scared. I got her right to the car, swung by the house to get my bag, some snackage for Biba, a wet rag and a chilly block, called Ned and headed for the ER.

I am so grateful that we live so close. Everything is fine, Biba is fine but she now has 6 stitches in her head. There were a bunch of little girls there. They called it Little Girlie Night. One ended up with 6 stitches as well, under her chin, and one had a broken leg.

I've only just been able to cry five minutes ago. I had to keep it all together for Biba. I just told her that this happens to every kid, and it is not bad like a punishment. Things like that. I kept her talking and spelling and telling me how she was feeling.

It was awful, though. I had a moment of empathy for all parents pf all ill or injured children. I am so incredibly grateful that it was so not bad.

I told Biba that it would be old news in a week. Selfishly, I do hope that this is the worst that ever happens. (Touch wood) She is so very brave. She is deffo one in a billion, and I never play the lottery because I've already won with her.


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