“Claire, don’t run. Your head isn’t made of steel,” says Daddy.
“Actually, I think it is made of steel; it just happens to be covered with something soft and full of blood,” Momma mutters under her breath.
Daily Archive for July 1st, 2007
“Okay, Claire. We’ll let you down out of your highchair, but you have to try to walk, not run. Do you remember how to walk?
Claire quickly stomps her feet up and down on the footrest of her highchair and screams, “Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
“Um, nope. That’s not quite it.”
I’m about ready to have a stroke just from watching Claire play in our death-trap of a living room. 
We thought we had everything “kiddie-proofed” in there, but apparently we were mistaken. Accidents happen, even when you think you’re prepared.
Thankfully, she’s napping right now, so I’m feeling a little calmer. Hopefully she doesn’t decide to jump out of the crib today. That would make the weekend complete!
You know what’s so weird about what she hit? If you’d look at all the furniture in our house, you’d think it would be the least of what would cause injury! Seriously, of the top five “dangerous items,” it doesn’t even make the list! It’s all upholstered. There are no hard edges showing. It has corners, but they look non-threatening. What you don’t see (until upon further inspection) is that there is no padding on the corners at the base of it, where she hit, and there is just a piece of wood covered with fabric.
Edited to add this picture:
She really wasn’t running inappropriately. Not to mention it’s practically impossible for her to not walk in some form of a run. We’ll figure something out.
I’m temped to make her a bubble-wrap suit and make her wear a helmet.
Just kidding.
Kinda.
We stopped to eat at Old Chicago on the way home from the Emergency Room (since the house was hot, and we didn’t feel like cooking and Claire was doing extremely well with the pain…the magical goo hadn’t worn off yet).
We’re sitting there, and Daddy is looking at the beer menu. He says, “Hmmm…Skull-Splitter Scottish Ale. I wonder what that’s like?” And, I said, “DUDE. Are you KIDDING me!?”
He hadn’t even realized the coincidence. I’d had enough of all things related to the splitting of skulls, thankyouverymuch.
Well, we had a pretty exciting day yesterday (June 30th), and it all happened on Claire’s 19-month birthday!
I’ll start by saying that Claire (and everyone) is okay now. This is a gross story, so you’ve been warned.
We were working on the bathroom, and then we had lunch, and then Claire and I were playing in the living room while Daddy went to Lowe’s to get some things. It was about 2:30 or so. I was going to get ready to put Claire down for her nap, but I figured we could play a little while longer.
I was sitting on the rug in front of the purple chair, and Claire ran over to me. In the process, she fell and hit her head on the corner of the chair. A large gash opened up on her forehead and there was blood spurting everywhere. I quickly applied pressure to the gash with my hand, scooped her up in my arms and ran to the kitchen to get a washcloth. The wound was so gaping and gross that I called 911. She screamed through the first part of the call, but then calmed down a bit.
So, why did I call 911 and not Daddy? Well, my husband is the only tech guy in the whole world who shuns cell phones, so I had no way to reach him. I am totally fine with him not carrying a cell phone. When he’s not here, I know I have to have a Plan B. I could have wasted valuable time trying to reach him on the cell phone, knowing that he may have not answered it or may not have had service or may have left it in the car. Plus, I doubt he could have understood me over all the screaming. Because I have accepted all of the above, I immediately jump to Plan B, and it works for everyone.
Also, because he’d gone to Lowe’s, the odds of the trip being 15 minutes or two hours were the same. Because of these things and the fact that I couldn’t take her anywhere myself, I called 911. I’m glad they came to assess the situation. They agreed that it was good I’d called them, even though I’d gotten the bleeding to stop (relatively) before they got there. Anyway, every emergency call gets a fire truck and ambulance, so that was pretty exciting for our neighbors, I’m sure. Luckily, Daddy got home before they were done with their visit, and they said that we could take her to Children’s Hospital ourselves, rather than ride in the ambulance. Had he not arrived in time, I would have had to leave a bloody note for him on the door and ridden with Claire in the ambulance.
So, the rescue personnel leave, and Daddy’s holding Claire. I start running around looking for my shoes. Daddy was like, “Uh, go look in the mirror.” I’m all like, “WHAT!? WHAT!? WHAT!? I have to find my shoes! WE HAVE TO GO!” And he calmly says, “Go look in the mirror.” So, I did, and that’s when I realized I had blood EVERYWHERE. All over my face, neck, hair, clothes. I frantically start scrubbing with a washcloth, and he quietly says, “Babe, just jump in the shower. Seriously, it will take two minutes.” He was right. That was a much better plan. Even with all the excitement, we made it to the ER about an hour or so after it happened.
As we were getting ready to leave the house, I called our babysitter (from my cell phone, from the car) to tell her that we’d have to reschedule the date-night we had been planning for the evening, and I left her a message. As we were driving down the street, her mom was on the sidewalk and we stopped to talk to her. We told her what was happening, and of course, Claire was being all cheery and saying, “HI! HI!” and waving…all with a gash in her forehead. (I was sitting in the back keeping a cloth on it.)
Claire did remarkably well at the hospital!! She was all cheery when we got there, and she kept a good attitude pretty much through the entire visit. I was amazed.
Children’s Hospital is great and obviously specializes in treating children, so the system they used was awesome. They decided that she would need one stitch inside and three on the outside. AND…they have the coolest stuff. To numb her forehead, rather than give a shot of stuff, they put this numbing gel on there. They let it set for 35 minutes, and it numbed the whole area. It was really cool.
To do the actual suturing, they swaddled her in a sheet, burrito-style, and then they had a nurse hold her head while the doctor sewed. They also have a special nurse (I forget her title) that specializes in keeping children calm, and her job was to keep Claire distracted while they stitched. They kept saying they were going to wait for this person to come to the room before starting the procedure, and I kept thinking to myself, “How hard can it be to distract Claire if she’s wrapped like a burrito? I can do that! I want to get this over with!” But, when they got the needles out and started the procedure, it was so gross, that I was having trouble focusing, and I nearly barfed. (But, I tried to keep my composure for Claire’s sake).
The lady who was devoted purely to keeping Claire distracted was more helpful than I could imagine. I was SO GLAD they had a trained professional, who didn’t even bat an eye at gaping wounds and blood, there to distract Claire. (I almost needed someone to distract me!) We were given the option to stay in the room while they did the procedure or wait outside. We both opted to stay with Claire, and we both did relatively well with all the blood and needles, and Daddy only had to sit down at the very end. Actually, my husband doesn’t do well with blood and needles AT ALL, and he was a trooper. In the midst of all the excitement, I’d totally forgotten about this, and I hadn’t even noticed that he’d sat down in the chair at the end.
When they were all done, Claire kept begging to “Play? Play? Play?” with all the toys they’d brought in to use in the distraction. That’s when I noticed how pale he looked, and then I remembered how he hates situations like this. He did extremely well considering. Granted, he didn’t get to witness the blood spurting out all over the place and hold his bare hand over a gaping wound. But, he got to drive up to the house and see it surrounded by a fire truck and ambulance, and that would be pretty traumatic, too. I don’t know which would be worse, actually.
Anyway, we were at the hospital for a few hours, and it went quicker than we thought it would. Luckily, we got right in. When we were leaving, the waiting room was practically full! Looks like we timed that just right. We stopped to grab a bite to eat before going home, and Claire was fine at the restaurant. She’s going to be really sore today, so we stopped to get some Children’s Tylenol, and she picked out some Barbie Band-Aids.
I’m supposed to take her back to Children’s in five days to have the stitches removed. Running on pure adrenaline has left me utterly and completely exhausted. I’m so glad things turned out the way they did. It could have been so much worse. What a day.
Edited to add this picture of Claire and her stitches! Brushing her teeth in front of the mirror was enough of a distraction to keep her still enough to take the picture. For updates to this saga, check out the archives for the month of July.
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