Why oh Why?

So I'm seriously irritated. Mah baby (aka Chicken pants, bean, and oh yeah, Skye) is hurt. Like hurt hurt. Fractured elbow and the worst is that I don't even know what the heck anyone is going to do about fixing my baby until tomorrow. TOMORROW is a very long time to wait when I want an answer NOW! and of course it has to be an answer I'm ok with. I find the worst possible thing to do at these times is go online and "google" it. Ugh. I thought maybe I'd see how long this blasted thing would affect all of us. Well, that was one of the last things I found-the first being that elbow breaks usually = surgery. NO WAY NO HOW IS MY BABY BEING CUT OPEN! Out of your friggin' minds is what I think. She's too little for general anesthesia and I'm too frazzled for it.

I'm good with trauma, I'd like to think. I don't flap, freak, squeak, or faint. I calmly asses the situation, help if I can or ask for assistance in any other case. I've delivered a baby, helped accident victims with blood spurting, couple of butterlies to an angry gash; the usual. But this is my kid. I'm fine with the mom-triage: no bones or blood-check, ice-check, kiss the boo-boo-check. In my heart of hearts I knew something was wrong this time....I was right. hooray for me....not.

So here's what I need to figure out. How do I get rid of all this angst (short of burning the tent Skye fell out of whilst, and at the same time ,setting fire to the rest of the yard that she was hurt in) without being a complete loony? For me the two items in parens () seem completely justifiable. As does placing her in bubble wrap for the next 80 years. Not much seems to be working and I'm at the point where I'm as crabby as a constipated old man.....and I even ate a bran muffin today.

I hope tomorrow delivers some silver lining for me 'cause I'm in serious need of it....or a good cry. I guess this is my attempt at cathartic resolution? Not a very good one I'm thinking.

This rant brought to you by the letter "q".