Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Sunday Bloody Sunday

Yesterday, OC and I enjoyed a picnic lunch outside on the driveway, during which there were lots of harmless little black bugs around. A tiny one landed on her jacket.

"Mom, look at this little bug! He looks like he needs some fresh air. I will introduce him to the ground." (Gently scrapes bug off jacket and places on the ground.)

We had sandwiches, chips, and cottage cheese. It was warm in the sunshine but every once in awhile a strong, cold wind blew through reminding us it has only just become spring, and that we have a ways to go before the purely warm days of summer.

I was able to enjoy this day at home with my daughter because of a horrific accident she endured the day before. Horrific for me; painful for her; in the end, she was okay.

We stopped by the grocery store. She wanted to ride on the bottom part of the cart. She tried to fit into the small basket on the bottom, but realized she was too big. She backed out of it and went to stand up, but hit her head on the metal bar underneath the cart - right where a bolt stuck through. It cut her head, and then the blood started to flow. And flow. And flow. And flow.

It's weird how your mind works in an emergency. My thoughts were fast, and so the following took about 2 1/2 seconds to work through: I wanted to get her in the car and go to the hospital, but she was bleeding so much and was scared, and I knew we had to stop the bleeding first; Next, I thought we'd need to go buy hydrogen peroxide and bandages, but we didn't have time to wait in line. Finally, I arrived at taking her to a checkstand and asking for a first aid kit.Which I did.

A man who had just bought his groceries asked if it was my hand that was bleeding or if it was my daughter, and I said it was my daughter. He came right over and said he was a paramedic. I immediately felt relieved, knowing I wasn't alone. Not only were there concerned people around, which was nice, but also, a paramedic! Who, sweetly enough, used to be a box boy at the very same grocery store.

But back to the blood. The store employees got us an icepack, more papertowels, cookies, water, and went out to my car to get my phone so I could call OH to come get us. My left hand was entirely covered in blood, and one boy cleaned it off with a spray bottle and some paper towels, gently moving my watch and ring to get it all, all while I hugged OC and held the icepack with the other hand. They were talking and joking with us, after awhile. How fabulous is that? How great are people when you need help like that?

OH came and we got OC to the emergency room, where she did not require stitches or a shot. The cut is on the back of her head where the scar will never be seen. They cleaned it up, anointed it with polysporin, and sent us along with a discharge sheet that told us to bring her back if she did things like vomited more than twice, behavior changes, headaches that weren't soothed with Tylenol, etc.

She is fine. I am fine. We stayed home one day to have a bath to remove the crusted, caked-on blood, and to give the cut some time to heal. She is back in her preschool/daycare classroom today with all those little monsters. I am worried about her getting reinjured somehow, in all that activity with the other children. On the other hand, she may not. I have to think she is just fine.

1 comment:

snowballinhell said...

It sooooo scary when a kid gets hurt, isn't it? It's so hard to be a parent sometimes.