Once, early in my Nanny career I took a spill that resulted in a 4-inch gash on my shin, cut down to the bone. I was totally freaked out to find myself staring at the inside of my leg, but tried to remain calm, wrapped my sweater around my leg, limped myself and my three year old charge to the nearest phone and called my Mother, as I was only nineteen and still living at home, taking a year off between High School and College. She picked up my charge and me and sat with him at the hospital while a surgeon closed back up my shin with forty stitches, then returned my charge to his Mother, tucked me onto the couch and called my agent (I was pursuing an acting career along with a Nanny career on my gap year) to tell them I would not be making my callback for the part of the gymnast on “One Life to Live.”It’s good to have your Mother around in a time of crisis.
But what of those times when an injury occurs out in the Nanny world and you and your charges are on your own? There was the time that I was driving Ikaika and he choked on the cool ranch Doritos he was scarfing down in the back seat of my Civic. I caught sight of his bulging eyes and reddened face in my rear view mirror and calmly pulled over, slid him out of his seat belt, and gave him the Heimlich maneuver right there in the breakdown lane. He spit out an orange wad of Doritos, took a deep breath and whispered, “I want my Mom.”
Three-month-old Cooper, one of a set of adorable blond twins, once had a hair tourniquet on his toe. Has anyone ever heard of this? It’s when a hair gets wrapped around a tiny toe or finger and tightens until only a surgeon can remove it. I noticed it because I was taking pictures of Cooper’s toes while he was napping. Three month old toes are very cute, except that day I noticed that the middle one on his left foot was red and swollen on the tip and seemed to have some sort of clear thread wrapped around it. As I did not drive him and his brother yet, I loaded them into their double Bob stroller and high tailed it to the fire department. (Note to caregivers and parents alike: your local fire department is filled with paramedics ready to give you or your children excellent medical attention at any time of the day or night.) The paramedics insisted on driving us to the hospital immediately so I folded up the stroller into the back of the ambulance and had one of the paramedics in the back with us hold onto one twin while I held the other. We were tended to by a plastic surgeon that said that it was good that we had acted quickly as little Cooper was close to losing his toe. Losing his toe! I now obsessively check all small socks for loose hairs. You never know.
That was not the only Kramer vs. Kramer style jog to the fire department for me and a charge of mine as I tend to rule towards over reaction to injury. Golf ball size bump on the head from the ten-year-old playing baseball? I like to let the paramedics shine a light in his eyes. Fall from a rope swing at the creek? Let’s get that arm checked out by the professionals. It’s never been anything serious, but I like to be sure.
The worst injury I’ve ever experienced on the job, however, happened to me. It was on a temp job on Oahu, when I was getting ready for the early shift (six am!) and I slipped and fell three feet down wet stairs while walking into my lava rock lined shower, landing on the base of my spine. Immediate pain shot through me and I could not get up. I could barely breathe. I lay there and contemplated a future lifespan of serious back complications. Eventually I was able to wiggle onto my side and crawl slowly to my cell phone where I called the main house and summoned my Mom boss. They gave me very special treatment through my convalescence, which involved lying flat on my back for a full week on ice to sooth three bulging disks at the base of my spine. As I lay there with books and magazines brought to me by my bosses, and cute cards made by the children, I wondered what would happen if you got seriously hurt on the job and nobody cared, or worse, there was no health insurance, no worker’s comp, and while you healed, no salary? What if when one of the children got those typical bumps and bruises of childhood it was the parents who totally overreacted? What if a child were severely injured while in your care? Would your job be threatened, or even your freedom? It certainly makes you think.
As for me, I have enjoyed my Nanny career without any major pitfalls, so to speak. The acting career did not fare so well. When I limped into my rescheduled callback on crutches and a huge bandage wrapped around my leg and announced, “I’m here for the part of the gymnast,” I could tell from the look on the casting directors faces that I would not be starring on a soap opera anytime soon. And after I limped back out they called my agent and said that my ass looked big, all leaning over on crutches like that. Talk about adding insult to injury!
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Rebecca Nelson Lubin is a writer and Nanny who resides in the San Francisco Bay Area. You may read more of her articles at http://www.abandofwives.ning.com/
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