Upon Lydia hearing she had an appointment with Dr Little, she quickly prepared for her day. You see, she has a full-fledge crush on her surgeon. At the mere mention of his name, her entire demeanor changes. Her head tilts to the side one way as she brings both hands together in front of her, her hip pops out ever so slightly and then her eyelashes begin to flutter over her baby blues. She then runs around the house saying his name and making plans to meet with him. She has precise ideas of what she should wear, how her hair should look and what baby doll or stuffed animal she thinks he would like to see. This fascinates me because she is four years old; this terrifies me because she is four years old.

The appointment report: Lydia has what is called a pyogenic granuloma. It is an extra clump of blood vessels and skin cells growing at the tip of her finger. Too many vessels, not enough skin. Again, I am fascinated by the human body and how we are created. Finger soaking, along with painful scrubbing and then three applications of silver nitrate was the prescription for the day. We were told to be careful. Tell that to the four-year-old, please, Doctor! And then reevaluate next week.

I don’t think I ever told you how Lydia severed her finger top. Warning, potential for small cringe factor follows. 🙂 Phoebe was grabbing something out of my room for me. Lydia was standing behind her as she pulled the door shut. Phoebe never saw her there nor did she have any idea Lydia had stuck her hand between the door and the wall by the hinge. Let’s all just say a collective, “Ouch!!!” together right now!

As an FYI, most ER visits for children with a severed finger are from doors-interior house doors. Three out of four, in fact.

The sweetest moment in all of this chaos was shown through a gentle, sweet action of Lydia. Phoebe had been crying on and off for hours, struggling to put on a brave face. Lydia still did not really grasp what had happened to her finger, definitely not that she had lost part of her finger and it had been reattached. She walked over to Phoebe, put her hand on her face, stroked it lovingly back and forth and smiled saying, “Don’t cry Phoebe. It’s not your fault. It will be okay.”

It will be okay and someday she will get to tell the tale of her never-ending finger.

Lydia smiling a little over zealously as she is ready for her appointment with the good doctor.