a really big scare

Two days ago I was enjoying my cup of coffee on our front patio watching the sun rise.  The chickens were aimlessly searching for bugs in the morning light and the rooster was keeping tabs on his hens.  He seemed peaceful enough.  I then went inside to start my morning routine.  I can’t do anything until I’ve had my cup of steaming hot robust coffee.  The oatmeal is started, I’m placing Tobias in his swing to ready him for his morning meal.  Leo has me put his shoes on for him and he runs outside to play.  Nothing abnormal.  He does this a lot while I’m cooking.  There is a window in the kitchen where I can peek out and check on him.  I begin to feed Toby.  One spoon, then another and another.  I hear crying behind me.  Then screaming, then more panicked crying.  I wheel around and see our big roo jumping up on my little boy bringing his feet up to spur and scratch.  Without shoes and still in my pajamas I race out the door and with no broom in hand or anything for defense against the big guy I kick him off my son.  I kick him again into the bush by the dogwood tree.  He panics and runs away.  I turn around to assess the situation.  Leo has tears streaming down his sweet face.  Blood is dripping, pouring down his right arm.  I help him inside with a slight limp.   The rooster managed to strike my foot during the attack. I don’t even care about me right now.

Leo has a puncture mark.  It’s about a cm wide and based on the amount of swelling and blood gushing I can tell it’s deep.  My thought is to immediately wash it out.  I carry him up the the bathroom and place him in the tub, turn on warm water and hold his sweet arm under the stream of water, letting it gush into the wound and pour out.  While Leo is holding his arm under the water, I ready the hydrogen peroxide.  I dab a cotton ball in to the peroxide and begin wetting the puncture wound.  Saturating the cotton ball as much as I can, I repeat this process many times.  In hindsight I should have poured the peroxide straight onto the area.  Deeming it as much disinfected as I can I then add some tea tree oil to the mix.  Pressing on the wound with the cotton ball I then rub my healing salve (a blend of calendula flower, lavender, and tea tree oil…held together by beeswax and coconut oil and olive oil all of which are strongly antibacterial) all over it and then place the band aid on to suppress the bleeding.  The bleeding is actually a really good thing.  It’s evidence that the blood flow is really pushing out impurities.  I try to remind myself this as I gaze at the amount of blood still seeping in to the band aid.  Damn rooster.

I dry Leo off.  Cradle him in my arms for a moment then proceed to dress him in clean clothes once again.  He has stopped crying and is comforted when I tell him I am going to march back outside and put the rooster in jail. (his isolated pen in our coop).  Leo runs off to play a little shaken but more or less back to his normal chipper and playful self.   Thank you God for equipping me for every good work and providing me the necessary fast acting healing ingredients to address this issue immediately.  This is a serious wound.

I open the front door.  Where is that damn rooster?  I walk to the back yard and his pecking at bugs under the drooping sunflowers and calling the hens to himself.  I have my broom in hand and he sees me coming.  I hear him usher his warning call to the hens.  Driving the hens aside I then chase him, broom in air, into the coop.  I don’t actually hit him but he is squawking like I have.  I’m thankful that he puts himself into his pen.  It’s like he knows why I’m putting him in there.  With food and water provided I lock the pen and exit.

The moral of this story is it was scary.  I was shaking with anger.  This stupid bird really harmed my son.  How dare him.  Yet I know he was just reacting like a rooster should.  Leo has now learned a very important lesson of being vigilant and watching out for the rooster while he plays.

Last night I was really scarred.  The wound was bright red about an inch around the puncture mark in all directions. It looked like a massive bee sting.  Like a golf ball was under his skin.  His arm was hot to touch.  I had been cleaning the wound several times/ day up until that point but I realized I needed to really up my game.  Leo is tucked in to bed. No fever which is a good sign.  I accidentally bump his arm and he starts crying again.  I’m so sorry!  I run downstairs and grab my umckas.  Our little endearing term for some really potent tinctures.  Olive leaf, ecchinachea, garlic oil, vitamin C.  I mix the C and garlic in some yogurt and spoon feed it in to his mouth.  I drop 40 drops each of the olive leaf and ecchinachea into a small glass of water and have him drink it.  It’s yucky, but he is brave and drinks it down.  Good boy.  I clean one more time before bed with colloidal silver, rub my salve all over it with an extra drop of tea tree oil and hold my hand over it and pray.  I prayed diligently all last night as I was up a lot worrying about my son.  I am on the look out for signs of Tetanus at this point.  Not something you want to forget about.  I also have him drink 3 TBLSP of the colloidal silver.  Having done all I can do I tuck him into bed and try to relax downstairs.  Doesn’t really happen.  I’m too wound up in fear.   It really takes prayer and God’s comfort to bring me back to  a state of peace where I can drift off to sleep.  Drift off to sleep I do.

This morning the swelling is significantly decreased and the redness that was so bright last night is all but gone!!  Not giving any ounce of leeway to infection I repeat all my umckas and antibacterials again after he has soaked his arm in epsom salt.  I will continue to do this for seven days and watch the wound.

It is amazing the healing properties of herbs.  With diligence and the right blend of potency in your pantry you can really accomplish much.  I encourage you all to look into alternative remedies for dangerous scenarios…and keep them just in case you might need them.  Be diligent.  Be faithful.  Be aggressive with your treatment.  Be angry at it until you see a difference.

The night is always the scariest to me anytime our children are sick or battling against something.  You fear your sleeping child will worsen in the night while you are sleeping and you won’t waken to help.  My only comfort is this:  that God is watching over even when I am not or can’t.  Thank you God.  

I will continue my anti bacterial regimen on the wound until I see it back to normal.

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