As the time for our practice earthquake drill was getting near, I heard a small thump and a cry from Tommy. He and Rusty had been playing in the kitchen while I was on the phone in the front room. Assuming it was just a typical cry, I wandered over and then said to my friend, “Ahh, there’s blood! Bye!”
We don’t know what happened. Rusty says Tommy fell off the stool. Well, the stool was by the fridge and Tommy was laying, bleeding, on the floor around the bar from the fridge. Who knows. My guess is that he was climbing on something and fell. Or maybe Rusty gave him a little nudge. Don’t know, doesn’t matter.
What I do know is that there was blood. Quite a bit of it. I knew it was coming from his head but I wasn’t sure where the point of origin was. I held him over the kitchen sink and started looking for where to apply pressure. I finally found it on his forehead and used several wads of paper towels layered on each other trying to stop the blood. Rusty was on the stool next to me pointing out the blood on the floor (he IS very helpful) so I made him hold the paper towels at one point so I could readjust and think. I was home with a three year old and a wounded almost two year old. I wanted help, but I was it.
I finally got a good look at the gaping hole in Tommy’s forehead and knew I had butterfly bandages in the medicine cabinet. I’ve never used them, wasn’t sure which shelf they were on, but knew I needed one. I think Rusty was amused as I kept talking to myself about what I needed to do and at the boxes of laxatives (bought those for the dogs years ago and never used them since) and pepto and regular bandaids that I kept tossing over my shoulder in my pursuit of butterfly bandages!
The hole closed pretty well but was still oozing, so I fashioned what Tommy kept calling his hat …
Tommy latched onto an Infants’ Tylenol bottle during the bandaging process and pretty much hasn’t let go since. It even took a nap with him. Whatever comforts him today, I’m good with!
The rest of the morning consisted of getting Kevin home from work to be with Rusty and pick up Billy from preschool, while I made an appointment and took Tommy in to be checked.
Tommy was very mellow after “the incident.” He did a lot of just sitting and rocking in the recliner. He was perfectly content to just sit on my lap at the doctor’s office. He only cried when we had to hold him still for the glue and tape to be administered.
Actually, he only cried for a minute during that process, then he whimpered. It was incredibly sad listening to that. Think of the most sad puppy whimper you’ve ever heard and multiply it by 10. That’s the sound Tommy was making.
The doctor gave me two choices: glue and tape and a probable larger scar or stitches and numbing shot and a less noticeable scar. My adrenaline was running out and I wanted the least dramatic fix possible. Glue and tape it was.
When I picked Ricky up from school and explained why the other boys weren’t with us (Kevin continued to work from home so Tommy could nap – I love his job!), my soft-hearted 7-year old started crying. He didn’t want to see Tommy with a hole in his head! I explained that it just looks like a bandaid and all the blood was cleaned up. Ricky decided that he could see Tommy then and also decided that he was going to get Rusty to tell him the truth about what had REALLY happened.
I want some sugar!