Scarred for life

We've gone six years of raising children without a visit to the emergency room, so I guess we were long overdue. The incident actually happened about 2 weeks ago, the stitches are already out.

I was running errands with Bonuts and Babe. We had gone to the post office and stopped for some treats and were on our way home. Babe was doing his crazy monkey walk and running off in the opposite direction from where we were headed. Bonuts tried to steer her brother in the right direction by tackling him (her normal M.O.). They happened to fall against the bottom rim of a storefront window trimmed with sharpe metal and .... the blood began to flow.

Babe only cried for a minute - he couldn't see the gash or the blood - and couldn't figure out what the big hoopla was about. Bonuts, on the other hand, about lost it. She knew the accident was partly her part and was frightened of the blood and began a guilty chant of "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry....." - with her big blue eyes looking so very worried. She almost started to hyperventilate and wanted me to carry her and reassure her. Meanwhile, we were a ten minute walk from the house and I was trying to jog along holding Babe while stopping the blood flow. Ironically, having Bonuts near hysteria help to keep me calm because I didn't want to upset her any further. We walked home and arranged for a babysitter for Bonuts and to have Sunshine picked up off the school bus and then Babe and I headed for the hospital.

By this time the blood had congealed his right eye closed and mixed in with his tears and boogers so it looked a lot worse than it really was. All the nurses at the emergency room were amazed at how calm and collected he was. He was very intrigued with his image in the mirror. His "Pinky the Pig" got some blood on him (his winter coat was really gross) and Babe concerned himself with trying to wash and dry the blood off Pinky. He would tell Pinky that "It's OK," and give him lots of kisses and stroke his head just as I was trying to comfort Babe.

The emergency room doctor asked if I wouldn't mind waiting a few extra minutes while he cleared the emergency room of other toddlers and children who would probably get more frightened when hearing Babe's screams as they stitched him up. They brought in a bright blue gurney with thick velcro strapes to tie down toddlers' arms and legs while the doctor works. I tried to butter Babe up by explaining that that was a "Blue Bed for Big Boys with Boo-Boo's" but he wasn't buying it. "Scared! Scared!" he whispered with his arms clasped hard around my neck. I didn't even know he knew that word or how to describe his feelings that way. He was too small for the gurney so they made a makeshift straight-jacket out of a pillow case to tie his hands up under the velcro straps. Oh, he HATED that!

The doctor warned that most kids will treat the parent that accompanies them to the ER with distain because they associate them with the trauma. But Babe just crawled right up into my arms and held on for dear life. Between me and his thumb and Pinky he recovered fairly quickly.

The grand total was 7 stitches on the surface and two underneath. They were in for 5 days and came out last Wednesday. Looks a little like baby Frankenstein, especially on his perfect little head, but with sunscreen and vitamin E, I think he will turn out OK.