Little Miss G doesn’t get sick very often. So when she woke up early Friday morning complaining that her throat hurt, I decided she was staying home and going to the doctor. I’m not going to toy around with wht might be strep throat less than two weeks before Christmas. So, to the doctor we went. As he was filling out her prescription he says, “Wow, I haven’t seen you for awhile. It’s been a good fall for you. Knock on wood.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “We have made it through the summer and fall relatively unscathed.” I’ve been so busy I hadn’t really noticed. Plus, the girls are finally getting old enough that I don’t have to run to him for every runny nose or every 24-hour stomach bug.
Yeah. So I think maybe famous freaking last words might have to become the official tag-line of this blog. About 35 hours after the doctor visit, Super L took a spill from her chair while eating dinner. This is probably about the third time she has done this recently, because she used to sit down and eat with single-minded focus, now she wiggles, she sings, she excuses herself to go get herself a clean napkin or another juice. She is perpetual movement lately. It scares the be-jeebees out of John and me every time, but usually there’s some crying, a little consoling, and then a quick recovery. No such luck this time. It wasn’t good.
By the time I was able to scoot out of my chair and look under the table to see how she landed, I saw that she had her hand up to her eye and blood was seeping between her fingers. There was lots of blood and once we were able to really see the cut, we knew right away we had to go to the ER. Thankfully my brother was over when the whole thing happened, so we didn’t have to take LMG, and we didn’t have to call a sitter.
By the time we got her a little cleaned up and dressed, she was fine. She walked out to the car as happy as a clam. She walked into the ER as chipper as… whatever. She was singing songs to the nurses. She was wiggling all over the ER bed. She was taking it all in stride.The pediatric ER doctor at first thought we might be able to glue the incision, but once she cleaned it she decided that the cut actually ran deeper and at an odd angle. It would have to be stitches. And the shot to numb her beforehand.
I know every parent knows the agony of having to watch/listen/assist when something must be done for their child that is painful, but medically necessary. I’m not a squeamish person, and I can be pretty emotionally steely when I have to be. But oh, as her daddy and I held her hands (and her legs) and a nurse held her head, my big, almost 3-year-old girl suddenly looked so tiny on that hospital bed and she was suddenly my baby again. It was all over and done with pretty quick, but still it seemed like forever.
Don’t get me wrong, I know that this was not a big deal. I don’t want to over dramatize what is essentially a routine procedure to treat something that happens to a bagazillion kids everywhere. She was such a brave girl. In fact as soon as the stitches were in and she was cleaned up, the nurse took her to go get a popcicle, which as every parent knows, popcicles and chocolate milk fix everything for two year-olds.
And can I just pause for a moment to say how much I love nurses. Especially the really good ones who know exactly what to do and say to little kids to keep them distracted when things are getting scary. And how to reward them when the scary stuff is over. By the time the popcicle was eaten, she was back to trying to climb and twirl and all kinds of other things. In other words, she is fine. In fact, when we got home she spotted her plate of food, still uneaten, sitting exactly as it had been when the whole thing happened. She clambered up into the very same chair she fell from and proceed to chow down. So in other words, she is totally fine.