Our Little Trooper

We made a rather exciting trip to the ER last night for our little man Ethan...here's the summary:

-He's fine (for the most part) after eight stitches in the forehead. 

-Wooden breakfast bar stools falling on toddler heads make for a bloody mess. I didn't see the whole thing, so the jury's still out on whether big brother Erik was involved or not. Marie maintains that he helped tip the chair over; Erik of course vehemently denies the accusation.

-Gory details: The gash was a good 1 inch by 2 inches, and after seeing so much blood and what I thought was his actual skull exposed, I was convinced we'd need an ambulance. (I found out later there was still a thin protective between what I saw and his actual skull. Goody). But I called Peter first since he was on the way home, and he talked me down from the ledge before I called 911. Actually, he just stayed on the phone listening in on the chaos after I called him instead of dialing 911 like I'd demanded, because he was pretty sure an ambulance wasn't warranted. He was right. 

-I'm thankful for the basic first aid the Army drilled in to me...apply direct pressure, check for dilated pupils, etc. The ER nurse said I'd controlled the bleeding "exceptionally well." A new talent of mine, apparently. I was worried about a concussion, especially since my poor mom is still recovering from a recent one--so I was in freak-out mode trying to keep my little buddy awake when my he started to fall asleep in the car on the way to the hospital. But they said he looked great once we got there (other than the obvious hole in is forehead), and the fact that he was soon back to his little spitfire self and flirting with the nurses was very encouraging. 

-Big brother and sister were troopers, too...they did an awesome job helping and following directions, and being well-behaved little angels in the waiting room. It also helped that they got some Happy Meals out of it since we never got around to that dinner I was about to make. 

-Today my Ethan man is acting like his chipper self (other than a little crankiness) and is already trying to climb the bar stools again. This, along with his normal behavior last night, are good indicators that he doesn't have any type of TBI...we have a follow up tomorrow to confirm that he is definitely a-okay in this category (prayers please)! If he's fine like we think, then all we have to worry about is getting some stitches out and treating a gnarly scar so he hopefully doesn't look like a mean street fighter for the rest of his life.

-I'm thankful for all the medical professionals and First Responds out there who have devoted themselves to caring for much worse (including my husband, dad, and brother). But I don't like that being a mommy also equals wearing the first responder hat. Not one bit. It makes the heart ache (and the innards grimace).

-To confirm this, both Peter and the ER doc said it's always harder on the mom than it is on the kid, and not to worry, there will be many more ER trips in the future. Thanks...but I don't think that helped the sleepless night I had from worry and mama guilt. Or my non-color treated locks--the gray hairs are surely waiting in force to make their grand entrance any day now. 

-Based on my initial observations, I'd say that the result looks seriously amazing. I kept having visions of my beautiful boy walking around for the rest of his life with a chunk out of his head--that is, if he even made it out alive. (Overdramatic, maybe. But being the distraught mother, I immediately assumed the worst). But the doc did an incredible job and all he has now are two big fat band-aids to cover his Frankenstein head. 

-We're in low-key recovery mode today and thanking his guardian angel. In the end if all we get out of this is a permanent 12-12-12 scar and a hospital bill, I'd say we're pret-ty darn lucky and not much worse for the wear! 

Finally, some food! Those meanies wouldn't let me
eat or drink anything the whole time!

The culprit.
Or possibly just the accomplice. 

It's cool, Mom. Just gonna watch some TV now.
Quitcher worryin' already.

P.S. Highly recommend
this stuff.
Highly.