On Thursday I was having Laundrypalooza (don't even get me started on the laundry. It never ends. And with a baby that spits up prolifically and goes through about 5-6 outfits, as many burp cloths, and bedding/blankets, it only makes matters worse!). I had taken load 4,578 up the stairs to fold and put away when I hear a crash, and then Collette yelling that Trey got hurt.
I bolt down the stairs to find the ceiling fan in our living room, which usually looks like this:
missing a globe, and I hear Trey screaming and crying. But I don't see him. So I'm racing through the house trying to find him, and since our house has interconnected rooms that make a circle, I start circling through the rooms as I'm yelling to Collette, "Where is he? WHERE IS HE?" And he was, of course, circling around behind me. This would have been comical if he weren't hurt.
And then I found him. With blood gushing down his face, down his shirt, and down his shorts.
Turns out he decided to throw a big bouncy ball inside, and when he threw it straight up in the air, it hit the ceiling fan and knocked one of the globes out of the fixture and onto his forehead. How he managed to knock the whole thing down, and how it managed to hit him and not shatter into a thousand pieces, I'll never know.
The large, heavy, globe that "bonked him on the head" as he likes to tell people.
So I scooped him up and ran to the kitchen and tried to put pressure on his head and clean it up enough to see what I was dealing with, wishing all the while that LL was there to take charge. As most of you know, I am not the person you want to have when there is an emergency involving blood. I'm a fainter. I have a long list of the various times and places that I have passed out in medical-related situations, but just for an example-- when LL had appendicitis and was admitted to the hospital and and an IV put in, I passed out while he was having the IV inserted. As in, was put in my own hospital bed with the rails up. So I'm really not the person to be dealing with a head wound. But since I was the only one there, I put on my Big-Girl-I'm-The-Mommy-So-I-Can't-Freak-Out-or-Pass-Out panties and dealt with it. :) I pretty much knew right away that it would need stitches, and so I ended up having my sister in law come up and help me out with the kiddos while we figured out what to do. She agreed that it would probably need to be stitched, and put butterflies on as a temporary fix. Then, with Trey calm and temporarily fixed, and Taryn there to help with Elliott and Collette, I almost passed out. :)
Thankfully our family doctor agreed to suture him up, so we avoided the ER. Taryn took Collette and Elliott with her, so I just had Trey at the doctor.
Because who doesn't take a selfie while waiting to have stitches? :)
Poor Trey. The suturing process was no fun for him, and it wasn't fun for me, either, but we took along his beloved Flashlight Puppy and blanket, and I promised him ice cream when we were done. Three stitches and he was as good as new.
Poor sweet little guy. And oh, that thumb! :)
By the time he had his ice cream and we were heading home, he was feeling pretty good.
He and Collette had to tell everyone about Trey's adventure. And since LL is always telling them, half jokingly, "Don't do that. You'll crack your head open and your brains will fall out!" Collette made sure to add when telling people, "He cracked his head open, but his brains did not fall out."
For which we are all very thankful. :)
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