Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Holey Heads and The Joy of Surgical Glue

There is a good chance that my twins are secretly devising a plot to put me in an early grave.  A surefire way to throw a woman into panic mode is the ear splitting shriek of her obviously injured child.

E-Dude was happily using me as a jungle gym climbing over me when he lost his footing and stumbled headfirst into the corner of our wooden coffee table.  This is not terribly unusual, as the boys have a general knack for smacking their noggins against the borders of the ottoman style table.  This time, however, the cry E-Dude let out set every hair of my body on edge, and I knew this wasn't the ordinary head bump.   I pulled his hands away from his head in time to see a steady stream of blood pool out from the wound.

Thankful it wasn't his, eye, I scooped him up and placed him on a kitchen counter to attempt to stop the bleeding and determine the severity of the wound.  A Voice of Reason in the back of my head reminded me that head wounds have a tendency to bleed quite a bit, which helped me keep focus on my little dude.  Not that he was going to make it easy on me.  Already hurting, he had no intention of letting me hold a cloth against his sore little head, even if it meant I was helping.

After some fantastic acrobatics with the paper towel, I was able to get the bleeding to slow to a lethargic ooze.  And there it was.  A gaping puncture in his forehead.  Certainly not fixable with a band-aid and Neosporin.  A trip to the urgent care...and my husband was not home yet.  Oh joy.

I called my husband and in very stressed tones let him know what happened and where we would be.  My hands were shaking as I searched for the new insurance card (I Swear I had put it in my purse) and I could feel the panic well up inside of me.   That lovely voice in my head popped up again to remind me that if I got upset, it would upset the boys, and that was a situation I could ill afford.  So, I put on my happy face and said "Are you ready to go in the car?"

Just like that, E-Dude stops crying and says "Car?"

G-Man, clearly excited to go on an adventure, picked up my purse, slung it over his shoulder and said, "Let's go car!"    If I hadn't been so intent on getting us to the Urgent Care, I would have laughed at his cuteness.  In fact, the picture of it in my head is downright amusing.  I am in awe at his ability to take things in stride.

Despite the wound in his head, E-Dude chattered to me about the various items in the sky and the flash of his Mickey Mouse camera as I loaded the boys into the car and took the short jaunt to our local urgent care.  Quickly, the fantastic staff got us inside and had someone checking us out.  DH arrived a few minutes later to keep an eye on G-Man who was happily playing with the toy I had brought to distract him while we tended to his brother.

Certain the urgent care was going to make the call to CPS right then and there, I relayed what had happened and the doctor checked to see if the wound needed stitches or glue.  Having once heard a small child scream as he got stitches in his head, I was fervently praying for the latter.   And answering my desperate prayer, the doctor confirmed that glue would work nicely.

Thank Heavens for Quickly Answered prayers in your favor!

They did put numbing gel on the spot, which did not go over well with E-Dude.  Then our nurse came in, who turned out to be a mom of one of the boys at our daycare (small world!).  She was awesome with the little man, but he was intently watching the doctor as the doctor administered the glue on the wound.  It was so funny that even the Doctor commented on how E-Dude was watching him closely.

As a bit of a reward, the boys got to stay up until an hour after bed time to give the glue time to dry so we were able to put a band aid on the wound.  By then, E-Dude had gotten his second wind and was talking away and jumping around as if he had never been injured.

He is doing great.  I, however, would have appreciated it if the doctor had prescribed me a sedative ;)

1 comment:

  1. Oh, you poor thing! If I knew where you lived, I'd send you a bottle of wine!

    It's so hard when kids get sick and hurt, isn't it? I'm the same way---I have to fight showing how I'm feeling on the inside (panic!!), b/c it would freak my girls out too.

    Thank you, Jesus for glue instead of stitches!