Today was exciting.

When my husband works overnights. He normally comes home about 8:30ish. Sometimes he even locks himself out the house the night before.

He pounds on the door, which doesn't make me too happy when the baby kept me up earlier in the morning.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

The dogs are barking their heads off. I'm pissed. One, I was sleeping really well (I even turned off the scanner and pager). Two, it was still dark in the house.

Both of the above don't mix well.

Here I am jumping over the dogs like the hurdles in the Olympics. Stepping in the laundry basket (the teen forgot at the top of the stairs, again). Taking a ride down, only to be stopped by the toy box at the end.

Now, I'm PISSED.

Fist and jaw clenched I swing open the door; ready to unleash my fury on my forgetful husband for not take his key.

But it wasn't my husband. It was my mom.

Confused I look at her. She is breathless. She just starts talking very, very fast. Puggs was is an accident...rollover...totaled the car...airbags...seatbelt failed...flipped.

I knew actually what accident she was talking about. Even though I turned off the scanner and the pager, my phone receives text messages.

I heard the siren blast. I looked at my phone more for the time, then what the call was. I couldn't go anyway: I had the baby with no sitter. Page stated three trapped.

I threw the phone back on the table and grumbled idiots in the rain.

What I didn't know: I was MY idiot. I was in a daze. I got dressed in record speed. I got the baby dressed, too.

My mother refuses to come in my house because I have a "pitbull." I handed her the baby. She informed me she didn't have a seat. So I put the baby in the van.

My first phone call was to my station. I only asked for the mechanism of injury (MOI). I didn't want my station to violate HIPPA. I was told it was not too bad. I told them to forward me the pictures.

It was a 40 MPH impact.

High mechanism.

Oh shit.

I call him. He asks me when I am. I tell him 5 minutes from the hospital. He then floors me. Good, pick me up at the ER patient drop off. I'm done.

Wait.

What?!?!

The picture were very scary. I was more worried about him than anything.

Cars can be replaced.

Wounds heal.

But I know too well when someone time is up, you NEVER can get them back.

My time off to rest is now going to be chauffeuring him around to doctors appointment to see why this happened.

I'm grateful my fire company for such a great response.
@scribbles412