We’ve finally arrived as parents… we made out first trip to the ER. Hooray. Ok, maybe that doesn’t deserve a cheer. Nope, no cheering, it sucked.
Long story short, Wave fell off a chair in the backyard and smacked her forhead on a metal handweight below the chair. Blood was squirting a good 18 inches from her forehead. At least this is what I’m told…. See, I was at work when I got this phone call from Jon (with a hysterical kid in the background), “get home, NOW.” Click.
Under other circumstances this phone call might require a bit of explanation before I just pack up and leave work. But the crying in the background was all the explanation I needed.
I drove , FAST. She smelled like blood and was beet red from screaming. Can you imagine applying pressure to a toddler’s forehead, without them screaming? Right. But Jon did, because he knew he had to, for her safety. She stopped crying the second I grabbed her, which made me feel a little better knowing whatever pain she was in could be somewhat minimized if she was in my arms. Jon called her pediatrician to see if we should bring her in there, or the urgent care, or the ER, or just wait it out. But of course, all they hear is ‘head bleeding’ and send us to the ER. Which, frankly, is fine with me because I’d rather know we got her checked out than worry and wonder if her brain is bleeding or something dramatic like that.
The ER check in counter told us to wait in that corner (the kids area) away form everyone else. So we did. 2 hours later a nurse comes over to us and says, “we’ve been looking for you and couldn’t find you.” Oh hell, no she didn’t. We’ve been sitting HERE, RIGHT WHERE YOU TOLD US TO SIT for 2 hours and not once did I see you even peek your head over here. We spent 2 hours dabbing dripping blood from a toddlers head, trying to bribe her to be quite and sit still with hospital vending machine food. At least the machine had pita chips and naked juice. By the way, ERs are like libraries in the sense that if you talk to loud, your kid screams, or you make one weird movement, everyone stares at you like you just committed a flipping felony. Don’t make me dump your filled barf bin over your head. Oh ya, I gotta see a lady barf. Hooray (fake cheer). The day was going so well.
We finally get in a room, let’s just get this over with. It takes 3 of us to hold Wave down while the doctor does her thing, like squirting brown liquid into her gash to clean it out, GROSS! You know it’s never a good thing when a doctor says, ‘oh wow, that’s a lot more blood than I expected.’ Good to know, the kid clots well. The doctor applied some durabond glue stuff to seal her up and then I quickly grab Wave. I think I needed to hold her as much as she needed to be held. She immediatly stopped crying. I breathed a little sigh of relief, again, knowing at least my embrace could calm and soothe her a bit. The poor thing took those deep, sniffly, about-to-break-into-tears-at-any-second-breaths for the next 30 minutes.
We finally left (after almost 4 hours) and just chilled at home. We’ve never watched a kid movie with her before, so we had another first for the day. Rango. She just kept barking at the lizard guy, it was funny. We needed that comic relief. She finally went to bed and I immediately headed toward the freezer.
2 bowls of vanilla ice cream later and I finally felt like the day was done. And it ended on a high note. Oh wait, I forgot, I have dark chocolate sauce in the fridge. Cha ching. After 3 bowls of ice cream, now, NOW the day could conclude.
I originally made the vanilla ice cream to go with my sweet blueberry pie. There is just something so simple and so perfect about pie and ice cream. It’s just GOES! But really, vanilla bean ice cream goes with everything.
Oh, and Wave is doing juuuuust fine. She took her first fall and ER trip like a champ, that kid is awesome!