Back again...
to the ER that is. This afternoon, right before lunch, there was a scuffle between brothers with the result that K ended up hitting his head on our DVD monitor, and sliced his forehead open above his left eye. It was fairly deep, and the kind of cut you look at and reach for your car keys. We packed some snacks for K, and loaded K and A (as an extra pair of hands) into the van. On the way to the hospital, I vaguely wondered where on earth I was going to park the van. The parking lot clearance is 6' 10" and I need at least 7' to make it. I ended up pulling up to the ER valet parking guy and explained my dilemma. He very nicely told me to park in one of the reserved emergency vehicle spots with my flashers on and that he would keep on eye on the van. I highly recommend lunchtime on a weekday for any emergency room visits you have planned. We were just about the only ones there and had to spend just a short time in the waiting area. (But it was long enough to have to ask the receptionist to turn the channel on the television. The talk show that was currently airing was so inappropriate that I won't even divulge the topic, but there was no way I was letting my 10 year old daughter hear what they were saying...I had already made her turn her head. Luckily there were fish to look at.)
In the great scheme of ER visits, this was pretty short and easy. The cut was too deep and pulling open too much for the ER staff to glue it back together, so K ended up with 7 stitches. The worst part for him was having to be strapped into the papoose. I admit to stepping out of the room. I didn't really want to watch (unlike M who was disappointed there was no hand mirror so she could watch as they were stitching her up a couple of years ago). I also didn't want him to associate the trauma of being strapped in a papoose with me, either. We are at a great spot right now and I would much prefer to be viewed as the person who swoops in and rescues him when it's all over. We even made it home in time for us all to be on time to our children's choir rehearsal this afternoon. But, really, I'm done, truly and completely done with doctors and hospitals and emergency rooms. I know that 4 visits to the ER over the course of 15 1/2 years of parenting is pretty good, but if our current rate of visit continues, we will have more than made up for the first 13 1/2 ER-free years.
In the great scheme of ER visits, this was pretty short and easy. The cut was too deep and pulling open too much for the ER staff to glue it back together, so K ended up with 7 stitches. The worst part for him was having to be strapped into the papoose. I admit to stepping out of the room. I didn't really want to watch (unlike M who was disappointed there was no hand mirror so she could watch as they were stitching her up a couple of years ago). I also didn't want him to associate the trauma of being strapped in a papoose with me, either. We are at a great spot right now and I would much prefer to be viewed as the person who swoops in and rescues him when it's all over. We even made it home in time for us all to be on time to our children's choir rehearsal this afternoon. But, really, I'm done, truly and completely done with doctors and hospitals and emergency rooms. I know that 4 visits to the ER over the course of 15 1/2 years of parenting is pretty good, but if our current rate of visit continues, we will have more than made up for the first 13 1/2 ER-free years.
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