I have been told that boys get hurt much more often than girls. Unfortunately, G is proving that point to be true (I certainly didn’t get hurt as much as he has by this age).
He loves to tumble, climb, jump, and run. Add the occasional clumsiness phase and you have an equation for bumps, scrapes, and bruises. Sometimes we find blood on this child and have no idea where it came from.
During the last week or two G has had a bout of clumsiness. On Wednesday he managed to fall off his scooter and bang his chin, which left a lovely bruise. Luckily that was all he did. Thursday, he wasn’t so lucky. As I was in the kitchen washing dishes, I heard a crash. Then crying.
“What did you do!?” I called out as I walked around the corner. This child has been clumsy so much lately, and crying over the slightest inconvenience, I was a little annoyed.
But then it came. The cry with no sound. Then came sounds between the no sounds that I have never heard before in my life. G was really hurt.
He wouldn’t let me see. And in times like this, I really didn’t want to. I tend to feel dizzy and faint when I see blood, but I reminded myself that I’m “Mommy” and I had to look. I managed to peel his hand away from his eye long enough to see a decent cut just above his eyebrow — and blood.
Oh the blood! Suddenly it seemed to be everywhere. All over the left side of his face. All over me. All over his white shirt. Splattering onto the floor. The world spun a bit. I needed back up. Luckily Hubby had just gotten home, so I sat G on our bed and called to him to come out of the bathroom. G wasn’t letting me peel his hand off to get him cleaned up and I was scared to see just how deep the cut was.
Hubby emerged from the bathroom, talked G into a band-aid while I walked around like a crazy person trying to be calm, but not really doing well at it (as I do!).
We decided we’d need to have a doctor look at it. So while Hubby took a quick shower, I looked up whether we could go to urgent care since it’d be cheaper or the ER (go to the ER if you think you need stitches) and called the studio where I’m taking pole classes to let them know I wouldn’t make it to class.
Hubby and I differed on whether or not we should all go. He thought it would be best for one of us to stay home with L. I was going to comply, but I really wanted to go too. If we received instructions on how to care for the wound, I wanted to hear them for myself. I was sure I’d end up receiving texts asking who our pediatrician was and what time the incident occurred and what happened exactly? I didn’t really want to leave L not knowing how long I’d be away and not being in a situation where it’d be convenient to pump.
So we all went. We got the to the ER and it was packed. I filled out forms, noting “mother” on the line asking for my relationship to the patient, just as I had seen my own mom do numerous times, and feeling like I am not old enough for this. When I turned them in I asked how long the wait was. Two hours.
I started regretting my decision to come along with L. However, he was a trooper, as he has always been when we are out and about (so far). It was dinner time, and he was clearly hungry, but he wouldn’t nurse. He was too interested in his new surroundings. And the M&Ms G was eating.
M&Ms for dinner? Yes, please!
G surprised us by telling us twice he had to use the potty. (I didn’t know it at the time, but Hubby didn’t even change him into a pull up for this excursion!) He was also quite taken with the buttons on the Coke machine. Of course, playing games on our phones helped keep him quiet as well.
G was called back just after Hubby took him to the bathroom for the second time, so we had to wait about five minutes before the nurse came back for us. Once we were put in a triage room, the nurse fastened an ID bracelet on Hubby and took G’s blood pressure using the finger cuff. G wanted a bracelet too, so the nurse put the allergy bracelet on him. Then the nurse took a quick peek at G’s cut and another nurse entered. She took G’s medical history and took notes on what occurred that led us to the ER. G wanted to sit in the big chair by himself, but would only sit patiently if Hubby pretended to take his blood pressure using the finger cuff. Again and again and again… Luckily the nurse was cool with it.
Once G’s history was taken, we were moved to another, even smaller, area behind a curtain. We were cramped, especially with L’s stroller in with us. I had a chair to sit in so I decided to try and nurse L again. He hated the cover, so I said screw it and nursed without (yay for having confidence to do so!). Then another nurse arrrived, saw me nursing, and quickly shut the curtain and apologized for interrupting. I told her it was no problem, and since L still didn’t seem interested in eating, I put him back in the stroller and we were moved to a larger room.
I was glad we didn’t have to wait too long to see a doctor. An added bonus was that there was a TV in the room, which kept G and L occupied for a little bit. For some reason G insisted on watching Spongebob Squarepants, but it wasn’t on. G decided to make himself comfortable on the bed and then wanted to put the “pajamas” on (hospital gown — adult size).
Watching some TV show none of us had seen before
The “pajamas” didn’t stay on too long, but he had fun being cozy under the blanket. At this point L was also zoning out since it was his bedtime, so I didn’t bother trying to nurse him again. I figured if he got really hungry he’d let everyone know. I decided to push the stroller gently back and forth in hopes it would help him fall asleep.
The doctor came in and took the band-aid off G’s forehead and said she could glue it together to avoid stitches. This made me feel better because I wasn’t sure how I’d handle an active two year old with stitches on his face. She left and we waited for a bit for another nurse to come in to clean G’s wound. While we waited Hubby showed L how some of the med gas devices on the wall behind him worked (Hubby installs these for work so I didn’t flip out too much that he was messing with important medical things instead of rubber gloves like we did when we were younger). G got a kick out of it and it kept him occupied until the nurse came in and said he’d need to see G’s cut.
This didn’t go over well. Hubby managed to hold G for most of it, but towards the end G was fighting the nurse and crying that he wanted to go home, so Hubby had to lay him on the bed and hold him down so the nurse could finish cleaning him up. G’s face didn’t look so bad once the area around the cut was clean, but it was clear that it wouldn’t stop bleeding unless we had something more than a band-aid to keep it closed.
While we waited for the doctor to come back G made Hubby put the “pajamas” on. Then he started asking if it was time to go home yet. When we’d say we had to see the doctor again he’d get upset. It was heartbreaking.
When the doctor arrived, she and Hubby wrapped G up in the blanket like a burrito, which he didn’t find too amusing. He kicked, cried, and tried fighting both of them off when the doctor started applying the glue. Between cries he’d say, “Nonono! Go home yet?”
My boys hate it when the other cries, so G’s crying started setting L off. This made my anxiety rise even more than it already was seeing G pinned down on the bed.
The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than five minutes, but I was so thankful when it was over. As I’m sure G was.
Of course, just as we were leaving Spongebob came on.
G’s been sporting a Cars band-aid all day. Tonight he was admiring it in the mirror and was super excited to show it off to me (I don’t know what was so different about this band-aid, but he’s two so…). I had to take the scooter away from him, which was was not happy about. Other than saying he is tired and doesn’t feel well, he’s acting like there is nothing wrong with him and continues to bounce, run, jump, and tumble. I was worried I was overreacting whenever I’d tell him to stop, but I heard Hubby tell him the same thing when G started climbing on him, so I guess I’m not overreacting too badly. It’s hard keeping G calm because he’s two and just too little to understand that he has to be careful right now.
The doctor gave us a prescription for an antibiotic, which we couldn’t pick up until Friday evening and which Hubby didn’t want to administer until Saturday morning in case G had some kind of reaction to it. It’s the pink stuff I loved as a kid! We also have to try and keep the area dry for the next five days, so baths will be interesting.
So yeah. Exciting times. Now if Hubby ends up needing a trip to the ER we’ll all have had to go there for something this year. Hopefully not though!