FrankenBaby

Last night, at approximately 9:00 p.m., Charlie was still running around the house at full speed with no indication that he would be going to bed any time soon. It’s spring break and I think just one day of doing something outside the routine made his wiring go a little berserk. He spent the day at his Nana’s house playing in the yard, riding in a wagon, eating who knows what, and getting completely spoiled. When I brought him home, I thought that he would surely be exhausted from his exciting day and settle down. But no. He was exactly the opposite. He was wired and into everything. For dinner, soup and crackers went flying across the kitchen with most of it landing on Roxy’s back leaving her bewildered about how to get that illegal snack into her mouth. The rest of the evening was spent chasing the dogs around the house, climbing on the furniture, illegally pushing buttons on the television, and giggling at absolutely nothing.

When the Professor got home from teaching his night class, it was almost 9:00. He immediately relieved me of Charlie duty and I plopped my exhausted pregnant body on the couch and put my feet up. I had grand plans of watching something horribly mindless on television and going to bed early. Charlie saw to it that my plans did not get accomplished. Trying to watch TV and relax was impossible because the kid was marching around the house, banging toys on hard surfaces, singing, and climbing. It was terribly cute, but I couldn’t get over how late it was and how exhausted and in need of peace I was.

At approximately 9:20, it all fell a part. Charlie, in yet another attempt to climb on the sofa, did what I have feared for the past 4 months since he has been walking. He hoisted himself up on the sofa (with a little boost from me) and tried to pull himself up even farther. In the split second that my hand was not holding him steady under his tush, he lost his center of gravity and did a back flip off the sofa, smacking his head on the edge of the coffee table with an enormous “SMACK!” and fell swiftly to the ground. He screamed in fear and pain. I scooped him up and held him in my arms trying to calm him. Then, as I always do when he bumps his head, I pulled back his hair to take a look, expecting to find a big red bump. Instead, I found a wide, deep gash on his forehead. It was big. And it was bleeding. Of course, I freaked.

The Professor did what he could to calm both me and Charlie. Once soothed, we wiped the blood from his face and sealed the wound with a band-aid. We decided we definitely needed to go to the ER. The cut was no minor flesh wound but a deep and wide gash. He definitely needed stitches. By 10:00 we were in the car on our way to Baptist East. Charlie was fine but sleepy. Of course, we noticed that the parking lot was full when we got there, meaning that the place would be packed. When we took our seats to wait the several hours we anticipated waiting, Charlie was in a fine mood. I think he enjoyed looking at the population of an ER waiting room on a Monday night. Fortunately, we didn’t have to witness anything too gross or scary. Most people just looked like they felt terrible. In fact, Charlie was the only person I saw with blood. Incredible!

After waiting about 30 minutes, they called us to triage. The triage nurses were in LOVE with Charlie. Their perky personalities even made it possible to take his temperature – rectally. Now that’s something he’s never experienced before! I was amazed at how calm he was.

Next, they took us to the pediatric ER section. Thank the stars for the pediatric ER!!! Because of that, we got a fast forward pass to treatment. They took us to our room which was equipped with fancy animal wall paper, a television airing Noggin, and a wonderful nurse with stickers and the perkiest personality of all. She was great because she did everything in her power to distract Charlie and keep him from freaking out. The doctor soon came in and took a look, measured the wound and took some of his vitals. They then put on numbing liquid and a headband to keep it in place. He looked like a little gangster with that thing on. They took him for a skull X-ray just to be sure, and then stitched him up. That was the hard part. They had to wrap him in a sheet like a burrito. Now, in his younger days, my boy loved the swaddle wrap. But last night, not so much. A tech came in to hold his head steady, the nurse practitioner prepared to stitch his wound, perky nurse showed him Elmo slides through a slide view, and the Professor and I cheered him on. It was a packed house. During the stitching process, he was terribly unhappy, but after it was all over, he was fine. The only way you can tell that anything happened is the big band-aid on his head.

My poor baby’s beautiful perfect faced has been maimed, and I am probably to blame. I was sitting right there on the couch next to him when it happened, after all. I’m hoping the scar will be minimal. But, he wouldn’t be his father’s son if he didn’t have battle scars to give his face, um, character. I guess this experience might toughen him up a little to the pressures of life. At least that’s what I’m telling myself to make it a little better. Pictures to follow...