All About Mittens

I'd like you to meet Mittens.  No, Mittens is not the new cat or the new stuffed toy.  Mittens is my son.  You may know him as Rhett.  Looking back, "Oven Mitt" might've been a more appropriate nickname, but . . . well, read on:

So, we were preparing for our Friday night ritual:  pizza and a movie.  We either make our own or buy one, but this particular Friday, we decided to cook a Papa Murphy's pizza.  There's just something about salami on a pizza.  But I'm getting off-topic. . . Ryan was taking the pizza out of the oven, and for those of you who have baked the Papa Murphy pizza, you know that the little tray it comes on (whilst conveniently garbage-friendly) can be less than structurally sound when it comes to one-handed pizza extraction from the oven.  Well, Ryan was so concerned about the pizza balancing act (and rightly so, as those of you who know me well can imagine the lecture and extra cleaning required should he spill) when OH NO!!  The cheese and toppings began to slide off the pizza!  I'm sure it felt like slow-motion to poor Ryan as he tried to avoid the pizza fumble; to no avail.

It was during the chaos of this 450-degree fiasco that Rhett, dear Rhett, who has been slowly (and I mean SLOWLY) learning to walk, decided to use the open oven door as an aid to pull himself to a standing position.  He placed both of his hands on the inside of the door, rendering himself victim to 2nd degree burns. 

I felt so horrible (but not as badly as Ryan--he felt very guilty) listening to his howls and uncontrollable sobs.  This is an otherwise happy and bubbly little baby who cries for three reasons and three reasons only:  if Carson is bugging/torturing him, if he is really hungry, or if he is really really tired.  And he he will stop immediately upon soothing or provision of relief.  There was NO soothing or relief this night.  He just would not stop wailing.  I felt horrible.  It was difficult to even examine his hands because he had the fists so tightly clenched and I didn't dare pry them apart using his burned fingertips for leverage!  Anyway.  Our cute little neighbor had severely burned herself a couple of years previously and her parents had found out a day later that her burn was worse than they initially thought, so I decided it was better to have him looked at (and me laughed at for being paranoid) than to not treat it if it was really bad.

They examined it and showed me what to do with it and said they'd follow up at his 15-month appointment the following Monday.  His actual pediatrician examined it that Monday and sent us to the Burn Unit up at the University of Utah Hospital.  I was amazed at the friendliness and professionalism of the staff up there.  It was a very minor burn compared to what they deal with on a daily basis, but they were very nice to us, patient with me and my million questions, and so good with him.  They were very helpful and showed me exactly what to do.  Exactly what to do included the following (once a day after preparing the necessary supplies in advance):  clean hands, each burn on each finger (one finger at a time) got medicine, followed by a cling-free gauze pad, followed by sticky wrap around each finger and the wrist so he hopefully couldn't pull them off.  Then, each finger and the hand needed gauze wrap.  Finally, each finger and then the hand got their own "sockie stretchie wrap."  "Sockie stretchie wrap" is both a new noun and verb for me and is this really cool wrapping that stretches and is cut to size for each finger and the hand and wrist.  Lastly, if we were to be going somewhere public and potentially dirty, a sock was to be placed over each hand.  Hence, "mittens."

 

Mittens

Here he is modeling Sockie Stretchie Wrap

The worst part of the first Burn Unit appointment was the de-breeding (or popping) of the blisters.  I watched one, and turned away for the others.  Rhett made his objections known, of course, to this whole process.  And I'd like to add that his daily bandaging while confusing enough considering its many components, was made a tad more difficult by (a) his general dislike for the whole experience, (b) his knowledge that squirming is most effective when one wants to outwit even a grownup who only has the use of one of her arms and there are important supplies that must be protected laying all around you, and (c) the fact that he figured out mid-week that with the use of stealth and the proper skills, he could actually remove about 65% of the bandaging.  So, it was an interesting week. 

 

Here are the blisters.  

There was one on each knuckle and although it is difficult to tell, 

they were as big around as each finger.  

 

This hand got the less-severe of the action 

 

This hand got more of the action.  

The doctors were mostly concerned about the blisters that crossed the joint line 

(flexibility after healing issues).  

We have daily stretches to do that will combat the tightening of the skin.

He has another follow-up appointment later in October and then I think we'll be done with this chapter of "Droubay Family Medical Emergencies."  The following are some additional pictures:

This is the day before the Burn Unit Blister-Popping adventure.  

Note his cheery disposition.

Same day.  

He was so funny to watch as he would rub his palms together.  

It must have felt very strange to him.

Here he is sucking his thumb because the bandage and socks were off.  

He missed his thumb.  

Old friendships are hard to break, however.  

They have since been reunited with no end in sight.