Except Dotter didn't move from the side of the car, where she was standing, screaming, with her finger stuck in the door. I did what any mother in these situations would do - unlocked my seatbelt and bolted out of my seat yelling, "Open the door! OPEN THE DOOR!" (She was very appreciative of my advice, I'm sure.)
I took one look at the mangled finger and put her back in the car, "We're just gonna run and get this looked at real quick." I explained as I buckled her (screaming) into her seat. Then a thought occurred to me: This may begin to bleed soon. And there may be a lot of blood. And I just took out V's sweatshirt that had been sitting in the car for three months, so now what would I wrap the hand in?
I hurried into the school for ice and a towel before I whisked her off to the hospital. And, like any good mother, I started photo documenting our excursion, because I thought, "Hey! This will make a great blog post!" (I am nothing if not loyal to my avid readers.)
Meanwhile, Dotter was sob-asking if she was going to lose her finger like Uncle Patrick did when he was little, which I assured her would most definitly not happen since Uncle Pat lost his finger because he was picking his nose, not because it got slammed in a car door. (Another story for another day.)
The doctor came in to examine the mangled finger. "Can I ask you how this happened?" To which Dotter responded very clearly and quite loudly, "NOOOOOOOOO!"
Upon initial inspection, the doc ordered x-rays. (It was looking pretty gnarly.) Dotter sat contemplating silently for a bit so I tried to cheer her up. "Hey! Maybe they'll give you a sticker if you're a really good girl," I teased. "Like that'll help," she mumbled. (She can be so negative at times like this.)
She chipped up a bit when the rails were put up - told they were to keep her safe in case the driver got a little wild on the trip to the x-ray department...
She was sat so still (and completely frightened and afraid) during the x-ray she got not one, but TWO stickers! "Sorry I got blood on your white towel," Dotter apologized, unphased by the smile-makers in her hand. Hello?! Sponge Bob AND Sharpay?! How can you NOT be thrilled?!
It wasn't broken, but it is badly bruised. They decided the best step is a soft splint to protect that finger for a bit and a dose (or more) of Motrin.
I told her she looked like she had one of those big foam fingers people use at sporting events and that her new nickname was Big Finger.
The best part of the adventure? Neon Pink tape. Every 8-yr old girl's dream.