We are quickly becoming seasoned veterans of the Emergency Room. Brendan had his second ER visit the other night. It was 8pm, and Brad had given Brendan his bath, dried him off, and sent him to be Superman with his towel (little naked boy with a hooded towel on, zooming around like Superman on the living room carpet, as is Brendan's tradition.) In mid-flight, Brendan tripped over his pj's in the middle of the room and "flew" into the entertainment center, smashing his head on one of the shelves. (Of course we have the corners padded for safety, but the shelves...? Nope!) I was in Brendan's room, getting it ready for bedtime when I heard the thunk...and I waited to hear what kind of a cry it would be. It was a serious cry, followed by Brad hollering out, "It's a bad one, Noelle!" So I raced for a cool washcloth and ran into the living room. It was indeed a bad one. Thank goodness we'd been through it before, because this gash was bigger and deeper (you could see skull!) Brad grabbed Brendan and held on the washcloth, while I packed a bag for Brendan for the ER (water, snack, and his tiger, Bob, who keeps the monsters from going under his bed.) Once Brendan was calmed down and the bag was packed, I took over rocking him, and we decided that I would take him to emergency room so we wouldn't have to wake up Megan. Brad then headed outside to spend a frenzied 20 minutes digging us out of the huge drifts that had accumulated in front of the garage that evening. I spent the time alternating between trying to talk Brendan into peaceably going to the ER (he knew what was coming, since he'd done this before) and keeping him awake (as it was his bedtime and he was tired, but I was nervous about a head injury.) After Brad dug us out we carefully got Brendan dressed and into his jacket, boots, and Brad's hat (which kept the cold washcloth in place) and Brendan and I headed out. The drive and check-in at the ER was uneventful, and Brendan was quiet and clingy while the nurse checked him out. Brendan warmed up when the nurse gave him the paper tape measure she used to measure the wound, and he and I sat and pointed out all of the ER equipment while we waited for the doctor. It had been the night for head wounds, the doctor told us, as Brendan was the third 3-year-old he had seen in the last two hours. Brendan was wonderful the entire ER visit, and even when they were pulling on his gash and closing it with glue, he didn't cry once (although he made sure Bob was right there, watching.) Afterward, he had a lengthy visit with the nurse while his paperwork was being completed, where he told her that his favorite food was vegetables (which we both thought was pretty funny), that he loved the new sand and snow digger he had gotten from Uncle Jason and Aunt Tami for Christmas, and he told her all about the doe Chad and Cody had got this past fall, and how you have to put the deer in the back of a truck because you don't want to get blood on the inside of your car. The things that comes out of that kids mouth.... All-in-all, the ER visit took a little over an hour (compared to the four hour trip at the ER in the cities.) He's one tough cookie...and now we play Superman a little more carefully!
The cleaned gash, taken on the cell phone, while we were waiting in the Emergency Room.
Brendan is all glued and steri-stripped up.
A home view of the damages. Notice ER visit #1's scar going through his right eyebrow.
Even though it was late, Brendan still wanted his bedtime story.
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