So yesterday Kristin comes up to me in the kitchen right before she went out the door to catch her ride to school and said, "My fingers are bruised and blue and I don't know why."
I held her hands up to the light, and sure enough, my diagnosis (gleaned from two arduous courses in medical transcription at an Ivy League school, Ivy Tech, which, I might add, qualifies me to diagnose and do just about any medical procedure) was, "Cyanosis = Bad."
But what I said nonchalantly was, "Wow. That's odd, isn't it?"
She immediately left, and I immediately went to my source of wisdom: Google. (Not really my ultimate source, but you know, we often act like Google is Oz. Or Someone else.)
So I drove to work thinking that my child was losing oxygen and I sent her off to school without checking her lips or toenails or anything that might have seemed rational.
When I got to work, I called the doc and began an all-day game of phone tag.
Long story short, they told me that when I picked her up, if she was still blue to bring her in.
I waited nervously in the parking lot, and out she bounded, jumped into the car and said, "Hi."
"Hi," I replied. "Let me see your fingers."
She then threw her head back onto the seat and heaved a great big irritated sigh and said, "You're making way too big a deal of this."
Now, if you think there's some validity in that statement, which there was, remember that she herself did not know I was panicked or playing phone tag with the doctor. All she heard me say was, "Wow. That's odd, isn't it?" that morning. So asking to see her nails was obviously an extreme move on my part, in her opinion.
So I had to set her straight about who was over-reacting. A-hem.
Anyway, the important thing is, the nail beds were pink as a baby's bottom, so no danger. However, the fingers are still sore, which we cannot figure out.
She does play the piano every day, but she doesn't go at it like Little Richard or Jerry Lee Lewis, so I don't know how her fingers are bruised. Weird. If there are any pianists reading this who have experienced this phenomenon, please let me know.
And then later, I baked 3 doz. cookies for Oneighty this Sunday, and look what happened: blue fingers. Not exactly the same, but still, kind of ironic to have two sets of blue fingers in one day. At least in my head it is.
Because as you know, my head notices a lot of stuff.