Warm and Cozy

Recently we had to take Big Sis to the emergency room. The poor kid got a huge splinter lodged under the nail of her middle finger. I can't imagine how it got there, and it didn't really cause her much discomfort. She had woken up from her nap like any other day and was playing happily in the living room until she eventually let us know there was a problem. Very quietly, she walked into the kitchen where WW and I were sharing an afternoon snack. Without a word she entered the room and walked right up to us. She held her hand up to my wife and said, "kiss?" (we had to kiss it to make it better)
After a futile attempt to tweeze it out myself, while my wife gently but firmly held her still amid her screams, we decided this task might be best left to the professionals. I drove Big Sis to the local Kid's Healthcare walk-in clinic to be seen. Like that annoying, self-absorbed parent that we all hate, I cut the line and asked the admission nurse if it was worth the wait: would the seriousness of her splinter force us to go to the real ER, or could she be seen here.
The nurse led me to a room where the Doctor on duty came in to examine Big Sis's finger. With one look he knew: there was no way he was going to touch it. We had been dispatched to the Emergency Room, Scottish Rite, the prestigious Children's Hospital. The doctor said that in order for him to remove the splinter, he would have to sedate her, remove her nail, remove the splinter and then replace the nail. He didn't have the equipment/medication there to handle the sedation.
Off to Scottish Rite we went, picking up my wife and son. After meeting up with Grandma to drop of the boy, we made the 40 minute drive to the children's emergency room. Supposedly, this is the best place to take a kid in the greater metro area, so that's the place where we were going. Once we were there, and after a long wait, we saw a very nice doctor-lady who brought a tough orderly and a needle of painkillers. Loratab, to be specific, my kid's first fix. Well, after one shot of that stuff, and 15 minutes for it to kick in, the nice doctor-lady was able to gently pull the splinter out without a peep from Big Sis.
About six hours, and $100 later, we were finally on our way home. The drugs hadn't exactly worn of yet either. For most of the ride home, Big Sis sang quietly to herself. One song quickly became her favorite, sung dreamily and repeatedly, I can't even guess what tune it was to. She, in the haze of a Loratab high, contented herself to sing "Warm and Cozy" over and over again on the dark ride home. Our baby was okay again.