Stitches
So by now, I'm sure that all of you have been alerted to the fact that William had to go to the ER last night for a few stitches. Four, to be exact.
I wish I could say what happened, but I can't. It was supper time and we had ordered pizza and the pizza guy had just arrived and Hans had come home and the dog was jumping on him and Josiah and Annika were running around and William was horsing around on the kitchen chair and I was serving up supper, and...and...
Deep breath. That's how supper is around here. It's like tea at the Mad Hatter's.
We all sat down and dove into our pizza when suddenly William's chair went over. Our chairs are heavy...I'm still not sure how he got it over just right. Oh darn that Children's Museum and its exhibit on fulcrum points and weight distribution! Anyway, he went over and started crying so then I jumped up and the dog started running around and Annika ran upstairs to get the bandaids and Hans said he had a cut under his chin and I went dizzy from looking at the blood and Josiah...well, Josiah sat there calmly, eating.
The cut really didn't bleed that much, but it was deep and gaping and Dr. Hans wisely stated that it should be looked at by trained medical personnel. Being as Hans had just come home from another fun-filled 14 hour workday, it was up to me to take Will to the ER. We put a band-aid on Will's chin, grabbed some provisions and the iPad and headed out.
Thankfully, we are far enough out in Chesapeake that we can get away with avoiding the Naval Hospital in times of emergency and can go to Chesapeake General, so we headed there, filled out paperwork, listened to people crying and gagging and coughing and moaning and complaining about having to wait, etc. Last time I was at that ER with Annika, it was 1:00 a.m. and blessedly calm and quiet. I guess it was just rush hour in the ER.
Anyway, eventually we were ushered into a room and eventually the doctor wandered in, took a look and said that indeed Will needed a few stitches. I should mention that after the first few minutes of crying, Will had been in a downright perky mood and remained happy until the nurse came in with the numbing gel and I had to hold it to his wound for 20 minutes. Then he cried like hell, poor baby. I sat and rocked and patted and sang and generally tried to fix his broken heart. Then a PA came in with a different nurse and we mummied Will up in a sheet. We got him burritoed in the sheet (to keep him from struggling) and I took the feet. I'm not a fan of needles and couldn't bear to watch.
Will didn't make a sound during stitches and they look as lovely as can be expected. I'm glad his PA went to the Coach(tm) School of Stitchery. We'll get him some Mederma to rub on it, but they didn't think he'll have a scar since he's so little and it's under his chin not on it, so it shouldn't be visible, anyway. I guess if there is a scar, he can make up some dramatic story to pick up ladies...something about a wild hyena on the savannah or something. Maybe a bullet graze while he was in top secret operations. He'll think of something...
He got a lovely grape popsicle afterwards and was completely 100% happy and cheerful by the time we left, telling the nurses "thank you" and "bye-bye". We had a very quick discharge and he talked all the way home and then was up (in bed with me, just in case) until almost 11:00 p.m. I guess he had a little toddler adrenaline rush.
This morning, he bumped into something while he was playing and knocked himself a nice big purple goose egg right between the eyes.
Sigh.
I wish I could say what happened, but I can't. It was supper time and we had ordered pizza and the pizza guy had just arrived and Hans had come home and the dog was jumping on him and Josiah and Annika were running around and William was horsing around on the kitchen chair and I was serving up supper, and...and...
Deep breath. That's how supper is around here. It's like tea at the Mad Hatter's.
We all sat down and dove into our pizza when suddenly William's chair went over. Our chairs are heavy...I'm still not sure how he got it over just right. Oh darn that Children's Museum and its exhibit on fulcrum points and weight distribution! Anyway, he went over and started crying so then I jumped up and the dog started running around and Annika ran upstairs to get the bandaids and Hans said he had a cut under his chin and I went dizzy from looking at the blood and Josiah...well, Josiah sat there calmly, eating.
The cut really didn't bleed that much, but it was deep and gaping and Dr. Hans wisely stated that it should be looked at by trained medical personnel. Being as Hans had just come home from another fun-filled 14 hour workday, it was up to me to take Will to the ER. We put a band-aid on Will's chin, grabbed some provisions and the iPad and headed out.
Thankfully, we are far enough out in Chesapeake that we can get away with avoiding the Naval Hospital in times of emergency and can go to Chesapeake General, so we headed there, filled out paperwork, listened to people crying and gagging and coughing and moaning and complaining about having to wait, etc. Last time I was at that ER with Annika, it was 1:00 a.m. and blessedly calm and quiet. I guess it was just rush hour in the ER.
Anyway, eventually we were ushered into a room and eventually the doctor wandered in, took a look and said that indeed Will needed a few stitches. I should mention that after the first few minutes of crying, Will had been in a downright perky mood and remained happy until the nurse came in with the numbing gel and I had to hold it to his wound for 20 minutes. Then he cried like hell, poor baby. I sat and rocked and patted and sang and generally tried to fix his broken heart. Then a PA came in with a different nurse and we mummied Will up in a sheet. We got him burritoed in the sheet (to keep him from struggling) and I took the feet. I'm not a fan of needles and couldn't bear to watch.
Will didn't make a sound during stitches and they look as lovely as can be expected. I'm glad his PA went to the Coach(tm) School of Stitchery. We'll get him some Mederma to rub on it, but they didn't think he'll have a scar since he's so little and it's under his chin not on it, so it shouldn't be visible, anyway. I guess if there is a scar, he can make up some dramatic story to pick up ladies...something about a wild hyena on the savannah or something. Maybe a bullet graze while he was in top secret operations. He'll think of something...
He got a lovely grape popsicle afterwards and was completely 100% happy and cheerful by the time we left, telling the nurses "thank you" and "bye-bye". We had a very quick discharge and he talked all the way home and then was up (in bed with me, just in case) until almost 11:00 p.m. I guess he had a little toddler adrenaline rush.
This morning, he bumped into something while he was playing and knocked himself a nice big purple goose egg right between the eyes.
Sigh.
