Our First Visit to the ER

Yesterday was traumatic. It started out cool, rainy, and blissful. We were up early and out of the house. The girls and I headed to the Museum of Science and Industry with a friend and her little girl. Our kiddos love it there, and especially on a rainy day. Tons of room to run about. Billions of buttons to push, flashing lights, baby chicks, water tables, and on and on and on. We had been there about an hour and Big A was honestly and truly having a wonderful time. But with the blink of an eye she tripped. She trips all the time. She's almost two, she's supposed to fall all the time. But this time she didn't bounce right back up like she normally does. She fell right near my feet, flat on her belly, and started to cry. I gave my initial "Oh honey" that usually does the trick, but she didn't even try to get up, just cried harder. So, with Little A strapped to my chest and fast asleep, I awkwardly bent down and scooped her up. My first sight was her screaming face covered in blood. Before I had any idea what had happened I yelled to an employee down the hall to get help, and then she was off. It seemed like an eternity before I found my wits, but it probably only a couple seconds before I found the source of the blood and pulled the sleeve of my shirt down over my trembling hand and firmly applied pressure to the inch gash across her forehead. Little A, still fast asleep. She was crying and occasionally saying "Boo boo" or "Mummy kiss it", which only forced me to choke back the tears even more. I was terrified and just didn't know what to do. My friend asked if she should call the paramedics and I said yes. I couldn't understand why no one from the museum was there yet, but it had probably only been a couple minutes. A wonderful mother near by brought me a maxi pad that I very thankfully unwrapped and used to apply pressure. The blood was all down her face, on her clothes, on the exhibit I was resting her on. In a moment I was going to lug her to my car and take her to the hospital - but just then the security guard/first aider arrived, as well as an off-duty paramedic. They got me some gauze for her head, told me the paramedics were on the way, and that we should head to the first aid room to wait. So, I lugged my bleeding toddler, trying not to crush my sleeping baby, down the elevator and around the corner. We sat down and they assessed her head and neck. She seemed "fine", she hadn't lost consciousness, her neck was fine, she just had a one inch cut, relatively deep, diagonally down her forehead. They said she would need to be stitched and we were going to have to go to the hospital. My friend phoned J at work and told him to meet us at the ER of the children's hospital (which is only one building away from his office).

At this point she didn't want me to touch it anymore and the more I did, the more she thrashed, so I let it alone. The bleeding had slowed, a lot, and she would have pauses where she'd suck her thumb and calm down a bit. The paramedics arrived, regurgitated what I already knew, and said that they could take her to the hospital, or that it was fine if I wanted to transport her. I opted for the latter. When I would hold her she would calm down, but when those strange men tried to fuss with her she'd go nuts. The hospital was less than a mile from the museum, so I didn't feel like I was taking a huge risk, really. The did insist on wrapping the wound before I left, which resulted in an epic white gauze hat that half covered her eyes. At first she wanted to tear it off, but I said we absolutely had to show Daddy first, and that we'd go see him right now. That appeased her enough, and we headed for the car. The museum insisted we have an escort to our car, so the security guard accompanied myself (lugging the two munchkins - although Little A was finally awake), and my friend and her daughter through a good chunk of the museum - with little field-trip-goers pointing and gawking. We buckled in and headed out. When I got to the ER minutes later, J was waiting outside - and had been, for about 20 min. :) I was so incredibly glad to see him. I was stressed and scared, and it's hard to preach assurance and confidence when you have little yourself. He scooped Big A out of the car and she just held him and cried, and we headed inside.

We had to check in and wait, but thankfully Nemo was on the TV and she sat very calmly in her dad's arms. Very soon she started to fall asleep, which worried me. I found a nurse and asked if it was alright if she slept. She came and had a look at Big A, and immediately pulled us into a triage room. She had to be weighed - which meant she couldn't be held - and that didn't go over very well. Then we were settled into another room where her vitals were taken. She was fine and given the A-Ok to sleep if she wanted. The resident came in to assess her wound, and we were once again given the "Yep, she'll need stitches." The big question was if we wanted her to be sedated or swaddled and restrained. We opted for option A feeling that the less meds and intervention the better. The sealed a glob of lidocaine over the wound and left us to sit for the 30 minutes it would take to reach full effect. As the blood started to seep through the white goo, J & I decided she looked a bit like a bizmark donut. :P

Meanwhile, I was able to feed Little A and put her back to sleep, this time on my back, so that I had my hand more free to help Big A if needed. She couldn't eat or drink "just in case" and soon she was assess by the "real" doctor. "Yep, she'll need stitches." Soon they were wrapping her in a sheet, and then strapping her to the mini stretcher that said Papoose on the side. She was able to have her little stuffed dog Duppy and her little giraffe wrapped with her. She cried. Boy oh boy did she cry. J stayed by her face speaking calmly and soothing, and I was by her feet, wedging a finger through the layers to have some skin-to-skin contact with my little girl. The resident sewed 3 stitches on the inside. I am pretty rugged when it comes to blood & guts, but it's not so great when it's your kiddo. As he went to sew the 4th and final inner-stitch, Big A jerked a bit, when the Dr zagged, and he knicked a vessel. Gushing blood started to run up her forehead and into her hair (since she was at a decline to keep debris out of her face). It bled a lot, and didn't really slow until he decided to stitch it through the bleeding. The plan was to have 4 inner stitches then glue on the outside. And even though the knick had caused more swelling and bleeding, that's how he progressed. He lined it up and glued it back together. The nurse started to clean Big A a bit, but I said I didn't care and to just unwrap her. Little A was awake again and I gave her to J so I could hold Big A for a bit. I caught the Dr give a worrisome glance...and I wish I could go back and say then, "What's that look for?!?!" We told her she was brave, and beautiful, and that we could go home. But instead of the nurse coming back with discharge papers, the Dr came back.

He said that with the extra swelling, he felt it needed to be stitched on the outside. Ugh. That he was very sorry, but that an extra 20 minutes of discomfort now could minimize the scar she had for the rest of her life. Double ugh. She had stopped crying and just kept telling me she wanted to go home in the car and watch Shaun the Sheep. I explained that we had made a mistake, and that she needed to become a burrito again and let the doctor fix her boo boo. Again. She cried and thrashed, but not as much as the first time. She looked at me pleadingly through tear filled eyes, and I again told her she was brave and beautiful and almost done. "Mummy hold me" was the worst. I stroked her cheek and her toes, the only skin I could get at, and in a few minutes he was done, 5 more stitches and it did look better. A little ointment and a bandaid. A popsicle lifted her spirits...a lot! It was about 3:30 when we left - and J was due back at work to give a talk. I let him go, packed the girls in the car, and went home. We were all (well, not Little A) so exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally. Big A ate. And ate and ate and drank. We watched 13 episodes of Shaun the Sheep before bed and barely left the sofa. We all needed it. When J got home I was finally able to relax a bit and the tension in my shoulders was epic. Some ibuprofen and she fell asleep in my arms on the sofa.

Today she took a shower with me and we washed all the blood out of her hair. She almost looks normal now. She's happy and playful and fine. When the ibuprofen wears off she's reminded of the pain and will tell me that her "boo boo hurts". :( My first parenting emergency. Let's just say I'm glad it's behind me.