My Return to Work Saga

Monday morning was so sad for me. I wrote about my heartbreak knowing it was going to get worse, and it did.

I arrived at the daycare center 20 minutes earlier than I normally do. I put Little Man's bag in his cubby and exchanged his expired Epi Pens for new ones. I then unpacked Ladybug's bag and put her bottles in the fridge. Mundane tasks, yes, but I was dragging this whole drop off thing out as long as I could.

I sat at the tiny little table in the tiny little chair next to Little Man, holding Ladybug and talking to the teacher that was there. I told myself I did it for Little Man. I wanted to sit with him for as long as I could to make sure he was comfortable with me leaving. Secretly, I think it was to soak up all the Ladybug time I could get before turning her over to strangers (yes, they have cared for Little Man for a year, but essentially they are strangers).

The infant teacher wasn't there when I got there, so that's another reason I waited. I wanted to go over the details of Ladybug's day with her (as if she hasn't dealt with infants before - at least none as precious as mine). When she arrived, I handed Ladybug over and that's when the tears really started flowing. Handing your 12 week over to a stranger is not an easy thing to do. I didn't have to do it with Little Man, so I had no idea. It was terrible.

I finally walked out the door and took the 3 minute drive to work. I was there 15 minutes early, but that was okay with me. I needed to pump breast milk (a real bovine pleasure) and I didn't need people knocking on my door and welcoming me back while I was doing it. I pulled out the breast pump and all its parts to learn that the tiniest part of all (the little rubber valves) were not there. Great - no pumping on the first day. The only good thing about that was that I was leaving at noon that day.

On to my next task, disposal of the expired Epi Pens that were in my bag. You can't just toss an expired Epi Pen into the trash. No. You need to release their Epi. Instead of grasping the pen with my fist, I did it with my palm and put my thumb on what I thought was the top of the pen. Then, I slammed the pen onto the a towel on my desk. Guess what - my thumb was not on the top of the Epi Pen, it was on the bottom. Yep, the part with the needle. I shot myself in the thumb with an Epi Pen. My heart started racing and my body starting shaking.

I heard my boss walk in the door, so I ran out of my office to tell her just-in-case I have a heart attack or something equally horrible. She's walking towards me with a bouquet of roses to welcome me back to the office and all I can say is, "I just shot myself with an Epi Pen, and I don't know what's going to happen to me." Hello - drama! Yeah, she didn't know either.

I called my Mom, who happens to be on her way to Alaska with my Dad in their motorhome. It was 4:45am her time. She's a retired emergency room RN, so I knew she would know what to do. She was super groggy, so it took a minute for her to process what I did. Aside from the skin sloughing off my thumb (and in my mind totally disfiguring me) I should be fine. My thumb, which was black and blue and tremendously cold (like corpse cold) was not so sure.

Turns out - I was fine. Why couldn't I just have a normal return to work? Why did I have to go beyond the crying and missing my babies and add all the drama? Mostly because I wanted to be nominated for Dumb Ass of the year!

1 People Raise Their Wine Glasses to Me:

Rebecca said...

LOL! Not a dumbass, but a frazzled mom, LOL!!! I can just see the panic over the Epi Pen. ((HUGS))

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