The Olympics are one of our exceptions to the no television plan for the lils. We love that they get to experience new sports, see world class athletes do their best, and are inspired to try new things in their play and real life. I must also admit that I am an Olympic junkie, and letting them watch lets me watch way more, as I don’t need to wait until they are in bed to indulge. One of the sports that has captured Goose’s interest this time around is gymnastics.
Two days ago she noticed that the footboard of my bed was like a balance beam.
She has been doing her routine on it since then, and getting more daring, and more creative. Unfortunately, she failed to stick her landing this afternoon. While her feet did hit the bed first, they skidded out from under her and she fell backwards, hitting her head on the wood. I knew by the scream that she had really hurt herself, so I scooped her up and cuddled with her. After a minute or two we both noticed that our shirts were wet. She saw that it was blood and freaked out.
I ran downstairs with her to triage. Our poor cook, who is now traumatized, helped me to slow the bleeding, contact Willy, and keep her calm. Once I had a good look at the cut, I knew it meant stitches. As luck would have it, our driver had arranged to take our car in for service today, so we needed to make arrangements with our neighbours to use their car and driver. Luckily they were home and willing. We were off within minutes of the mishap.
When we arrived at the hospital, which does not have an emergency department, they took one look at me carrying poor Goose and rushed us to the examining rooms. They were very efficient, agreeing that she needed stitches, cleaning her up, and prepping her (cutting her hair!!!!!). The doctor wanted to start stitching her right away, until I pointed out that she was three, freaking out a little, and might need at least a local. They agreed, gave her a sedative and tested the local on her arm to ensure that she didn’t react. We were then asked to wait and see if she got dopey and fell to sleep.
After about forty-five minutes, it was clear that she was as relaxed as she was going to get, so they prepped her for stitching. She was cleaned, wrapped in a blanket and given the local. For anyone who has ever had stitches, that local REALLY hurts. They had to give her the needle in two spots to ensure that she was well covered, and she protested loudly. A few minutes later the stitching began, and it became very clear that the local did not take affect at all. It took ten minutes to get those three stitches in, ten minutes that poor Goose screamed and cried and had to be held down by three nurses. I hated it, and the fact that there was little I could do to help my baby. I held her, whispered to her, let her squeeze the pain through my hands, but it was nowhere near enough. When it was finally over and she clung to me, I held her as tightly as I could, wondering why she didn’t reject me for putting her there.
In the end, she is OK. The sedative that they gave her kicked in shortly before bedtime, so she is sleeping peacefully. We have to take her to get the dressing changed a couple of times, and then the stitches come out in a week. She was very brave, and I am proud of how well she did. I don’t know that I would not have freaked out if I had to have a wound stitched with no local while three strange men held me down.
Just before the lils headed off to bed tonight, Goose fell up the stairs and landed hard on her chin. After she was soothed and tucked in, Woo was jumping on his bed, fell and landed on his head. They are both fine, but this just confirms that head injuries are our specialty. I am drinking wine now.
…no more monkeys jumping on the bed!