I didn’t see it happen, which is probably why I can write about it without freaking out. I was upstairs and heard a fall, and then the normal reminder to breathe which comes after. Both our kids, but especially E, hold their breath when they get hurt, and if we can’t get them to take a breath, they’ll pass out. By the amount of time it was taking for Tom to get him to breathe, I knew it was E who had fallen.
I heard the cry, so I knew he hadn’t passed out, but since it had taken a while, I decided to head downstairs to make sure everything was okay. Sometimes after they get hurt, our kids like to get a hug from both parents.
Tom greeted me at the stairs, and was holding E. He said “we have a bleeder” and I assumed he meant from the mouth, but then I realized he was holding a towel to the back of E’s head. I grabbed E, put him on my lap and started pressing on his head. One hand on his forehead, one on the back of his head, as hard as I could. Tom got ice packs and pacifiers, and eventually E stopped screaming.
I decided to take a look under the towel, and my first though was, oh shoot that needs staples. E said his head hurt only when I stopped pressing on it, so I didn’t look very long, but had Tom call our pediatrician. I tried to convince myself it wasn’t that bad, and Tom asked the on call doctor when we should get concerned if the bleeding hadn’t stopped. I had definitely slowed it down, but every time I touched his head, a dab of blood would come back. The doctor told us to head immediately to the ER to get it looked at.
Although my first instinct was to pile all of us in the car, because of Covid, only one of us could go with him. So Tom headed off with E, while I stayed home to put G to bed.
It wasn’t long before I got the confirmation text: the cut was big and was going to be closed with staples. It was then I realized that maybe I should have gone instead. I was thinking that Tom could maneuver easier while holding a child, and he’s better at mask wearing and general pandemic procedures, but when it comes to watching medical or gross things, that’s usually my area.
Overall the experience seemed pretty positive. They didn’t wait long, E was acting pretty normal and happy, and the staples didn’t take long and didn’t seem to bother him too badly. They were home just over an hour later, and E was bouncing up and down all excited about stickers and lollipops and couldn’t wait to tell me what happened.
I almost think that G took it worse. He pretty much cries any time his brother does - he trusts him enough to let him know when there’s something worth crying about. After Tom and E had left, G kept wandering around asking “Brother go?” and “Brother come back??” He went to bed without seeing them return, so in the morning he was excited to see that his brother did in fact come back, and was doing just fine. He was extra excited to see that E had thought of him enough to bring him back a yellow lollipop for him.
For a first ER experience, I think we handled it pretty well. The kids seem okay, we seem okay. It’s just another thing that 2020 has thrown at us, because of course it has. It was such a freak fall. Something he’s done every day without problems, a fall where his body just happened to twist just enough for the back of his head to come down on the chair.
The staples will come out in a few days, and his hair is so thick, I’m not sure we’ll ever really be able to see the scar.
But please, 2020: only good news from here on out, okay?
