Yep, you read the title right. We spent the evening in the ER with our TinyGuy.
Last night after dinner, I was sitting on the couch playing on my phone, Logan was playing with the TV remotes and Chris was in the bathroom. Logan was running around the living room getting his last bit of energy out before we started our nighttime routine. He was behind the couch and all of a sudden started running full force into the living room. Before I could do anything, he lost his footing, tripped, and fell headfirst into the coffee table. He falls all the time, so at first I was thinking he was okay… until I saw blood. It just started to pour down his face. I scooped him up and started yelling for Chris to get out of the bathroom. I grabbed a towel and attempted to put pressure on it, but he was not having that. We looked at it under the bright lights of the bathroom. It was about an inch long and deep and I knew in that moment that we were in for an ER visit.
Now let me tell you a little about me and hospitals. I hate them. I hate them so much that I would rather endure the pain of childbirth and have my children elsewhere. They are cold. They smell funny. And they are full of sick people. I. Loathe. Hospitals. Walking into one makes my stomach turn and the nausea set in. Not real sure why, but there is some deep seated fear of hospitals in me…
So, we loaded up the TinyGuy and headed to my absolute least favorite place in the world… Logan crying, Momma crying… and Dada crying. (The Dada was not crying because he hates hospitals. He was crying because he had hoped to go to bed early that night. We photographed our first paid wedding on Saturday night and he was still trying to recover from the 14 hour day!)
We walk in and there are people everywhere. It was 8:30pm. I estimated our time in the ER was going to be at least 3-4 hours with the amount of people in the waiting room. Logan had stopped crying in the car (thank god!) and was enjoying making eyes at people. He was even trying to get down to run around, but in our haste I didn’t grab his shoes and didn’t like the thought of him touching anything in that waiting room. So we watched some Yo Gabba Gabba on the old iPhone to keep him entertained.
We only had to wait about 30 minutes before they took us back for triage… which was a huge surprise. The nurse hooked a pulse ox sensor on Logan’s toe and he flipped out. He did not like that man touching him. Little did he know, the real torture had not even started yet. The PA came in to check him out. She told us that since the wound was in a straight line and on an unmovable part of the forehead, Logan did not need stitches and that they were just going to clean it up and glue him closed. We got the fun job of holding him down while they did this. The male nurse held his head, I held his torso, and Chris held his legs. That kid is so strong… even with 3 adults holding him, he was still wiggling and almost escaped. Once it was all done, the nurse and PA left and Logan was screaming. He was pissed! Five minutes later, the nurse walked in again to give us something and Logan was still screaming. Completely inconsolable. The nurse asked if Logan could have a popsicle or some juice. He’s never had either. (This shouldn’t be surprising. We all know I’m a fascist when it comes to the food that goes into my kid’s body.) BUT since he was having a rough time, I decided that he could have a popsicle (even though in the back of my mind, my brain is screaming ‘NO HFCS and artificial colors’)!!!
He sucked on it for a second and then bit off the end. He wasn’t a huge fan… I think he got a little brain freeze. He was still crying a little, so we just decided to nurse. And that worked like a charm. Thank god for boobs…
We waited a little while longer for discharge and walked out of there at 10:30. It was only an hour! I was so shocked. On the way home, we stopped at Walgreen’s to pick up some pain meds. Another first for the night is Logan taking pain meds. Before last night, he had never had any Tylenol or Motrin. We had found other remedies for teething pain, and I don’t believe in medicating a fever unless it’s super high… and he’s never had a high fever, so we’ve just never had to use them. I had no idea what I was doing, so I was trying to text my Momma friends and post on my Mom’s group on facebook to get some insight into what I should get. I’m so thankful for my Momma friends. I probably would have lost my shit last night without them.
We got the TinyGuy home, changed, and gave him his meds. I rocked him for a little bit just to make sure he wasn’t going to have a reaction to the medication… and to snuggle and try to apologize for his awful night. I got up every couple of hours to check on him and make sure the wound hadn’t broken open and that he was still breathing.
So, our little family survived our first child-related medical emergency and the Momma survived a trip to the gross hospital and having to hold her sweet baby down while strangers hurt him. Unfortunately, the Dada is still not caught up on his sleep… 🙂