I am currently sitting at my desk at work. I haven’t really been able to get a lot of work done today or even this week because every few minutes one of the students or teachers stops and asks what happened to my arm. Just so you don’t have to ask the same question let me tell you while I am at it.
It was Easter like any other Easter. (Cue in the dramatic music) The bunny came, we ate candy for breakfast, dyed Easter eggs for lunch and even made side dishes to go with Easter dinner at my parents’ house. The whole time we are doing these things Wyatt cannot stop talking about how he was going to get the golden egg this year. He is so serious about it that he even writes it in his journal.
We get to my parents have dinner and then it was time. Time for the Easter egg hunt. The men hide the eggs in my parent’s backyard making sure to hide the prize GOLDEN EGG in just the right spot as all the kids waited patiently in the playroom.
Once all the eggs were hidden we open the back door and the kids rush outside to find the eggs.
Now my parents have a good size yard sitting up a top of a hill connecting onto their backyard neighbor’s yard who’s below only separated by a fence and my parent’s wood pile.
Now these neighbors always have had dogs who’s been a little aggressive so we’ve just come accustom to it.
I was with Gunner finding eggs and taking pictures of him, Andalyn was with Cody closer to my parents’ house and Wyatt was running in all directions to find the Prize Golden Egg.
He runs over to me 5 minutes into the hunt, and rushes to tell me that he knows that the golden egg is in the wood pile and asks me to go over there with him to find it. Of course I go, I mean it is the Golden egg after all!
I walk over there with him as Gunner follows me behind.
Wyatt is in front of me closer to my parent’s side digging in the pile. I am behind him semi turned to the back fence line. I am holding my camera and raise it to take a picture of Wyatt.
Just as I do, I see in the corner of my eye a big brown dog charge up the hill. Now, this is “normal” behavior that these dogs do so I don’t think anything of it.
I continue to raise my arm to take a picture and then all of a sudden, the next thing I know the dog grabbed my arm and bit hard down on it tugging and pulling me, trying to pull me over the fence.
I just remember looking down at my arm and being so pissed that this dog has bit me. I didn’t feel the bite, I just clearly remember saying in my head, “What the fuck, this dog has bit me.”
I could feel him pulling my arm trying to get me over the fence and I said again in my head again Fuck you dog, you will not pull me over.
I somehow, get my body to bend down and turn it to give me the momentum to rip my arm from the dog’s mouth, and I run away.
Again, I am still do not feel pain. My mind is telling me clearly that I need to run, hold up your arm, wave it around, you are screaming, they will hear you. I only see a top punctured wound on my arm at this time.
According to my mom, I run right to her and show her my arm. She asks me what happened and that is when I say, “The dog, the dog bit me.” And then I drop to the ground.
She’s screaming at my dad who’s a Director of Nursing. My two sisters run over who are surgical technicians. They are screaming commands out, get a towel, and do this, that, hold here, call 911.
I just remember yelling out to my husband “there is breast milk in the freezer there is breast milk in the freezer.”
The next thing I know I am floating out of the backyard with my sister holding and pressing down a towel on my arm to stop the bleeding. I clearing remember looking at my husband who is holding my 1 month old and telling him sternly to get the kids and that there is break milk in the freezer.
I am pushed into my sister’s car and we rush off to the hospital. My dad is in the car my two sisters and Mike my other sister’s husband is following us in another car.
My sisters and dad are on speaker phone to my other siblings and I am in the back seat of the car with my sister holding hard onto my arm.They are telling my siblings where we are going and what to do next and I just remember screaming out (at this point I am in and out of shock) Wyatt better get a damn golden egg!
(be prepared to see graphic pictures below)
(be prepared to see graphic pictures below)
And then my mind starts to inform me, that I cannot feel my arm. Nothing, I cannot move my fingers, my hand and I freak out. And I start to scream even more and yell I can’t feel my arm I can’t feel my arm
We finally get to the ER and it’s like in the movies. We zoom up to the front and they throw me out and my sisters run me inside while my dad parks the car.
We get inside and I am screaming and bleeding and screaming and yelling about how I get bit by a dog.
They run up to us and look at my arm. Now remember I’ve only seen a top punctured wound on my arm at this point.
They remove the towel and turn my arm over and I see it. A big, a huge bite hole in my arm. And I freak out.
My sister Alisha grabs my head and has me look at her and she repeats. You are fine Audrey, you are fine. Over and over.
They take me into a triage room (I am still screaming) and when I get into the room the doctor or whoever yells at me to stop crying and I am pissed that he yelled that at me and clearly think I cannot physically stop crying. I cannot make my body stop.
He starts to touch my fingers and asks if I can feel them and I cry even hard because I say no. I have never been so scared then at that moment in my life.
He tries the other fingers. He pinches them and I still can’t.
He moves me out of the triage room and puts me in the waiting room and we wait for hours to be seen by a doctor (not even kidding, lesson learned we will always call an ambulance so we can get straight into a doctor.)
Finally I see a doctor they clean it out, stitch it up and I go home 5 hours later still unable to move my fingers or feel my arm.
The next morning Wyatt woke me up, worried and feeling like this was all his fault and I looked at him straight in the face and said "Wyatt, in life you have to get an epic scar at least once. And this one is mine and not yours. I will wear it proud and loud because I now know, that I can stand my ground and not let anything ever pull me in a direction that I do not want to go."
And I truly believe that. I could choose to let this get me down, I could keep freaking out about not being able to move my fingers or I can get up, work hard (type this one handed) and know that I will do anything and everything to not let this accident be more than just that. Because I am a strong women who refused to let that dog pull me over.
*Come next week to read about the ridiculous animal control officers, what happened to the dog and why we had to get a lawyer.*