Stitches Are NO Fun!

While making dinner last evening (10/15/09), I was watching the boys play outside through the kitchen window. Triscuit had this (pretending it was a hockey stick),

while Toblerone was riding his scooter. Obviously, this looked like WAY more fun to Toblerone, so he hopped off of his scooter and went running up to Triscuit....at the wrong time. I looked up from grilling my lemon pepper chicken just in time to see Triscuit highstick it and smack Toblerone right in the mouth. The following ensued:

Triscuit: "MOOOOM!!!! It was an accident! It was an accident!!! I swear, it was an accident!"

Toblerone: *Wailing in the background and running around like he was in excruciating pain*

Mum: "Toblerone! Let me see!!!"

There was blood EVERYWHERE. Weird thing was, most of it was IN his mouth...not pouring out of the wound. I KNEW this was more than a normal hit. As soon as Triscuit saw the blood he completely melted down.

Triscuit: "MOOOM!!! HE'S BLEEDING! GET HIM A BAND-AID! MAKE IT STOP!"

Mum: "TRISCUIT! YOU HAVE TO CALM DOWN! The more YOU freak out the more your brother is going to freak out...PLEASE stop screaming!"

Triscuit then disappeared and hid. Poor Triscuit. I couldn't consul him at that moment...I had to get Toblerone inside to assess the damage. When I got the bleeding to subside, I looked and saw THROUGH his lip to his gums and teeth! Crap...this is definitely going to warrant a trip to Urgent Care.

We reach Urgent Care at 5:30pm. There are 3 people waiting and ALL of them are coughing WITH fevers. GRR! I check in and 20 minutes later, he's called back for the initial nurse check.

Nurse: "Step on the scale, honey...we need to see how big you are."

Mum: *Snicker*

Nurse: "Whoa! 66.4lbs! You're a BIG boy! How tall is he, Mom?"

Mum: "3 foot 10 as of last week."

Nurse: "And he's THREE?"

Mum: *Sigh*..."Yes"

Then she starts asking questions...

Nurse: "How did this happen?"

Toblerone: "Tithtan bit me."

Nurse: "What honey? He bit you?"

Mum: "No...his older brother was playing hockey with a hollow metal tube that had plastic ends on it. He highsticked it at the wrong time and he smacked Toblerone in the mouth."

She looked at me...HORRIFIED. She had this condemning look on her face as if to say, "And just HOW did he get a hold of a metal tube?" I just had to brush it off...I wasn't going to feel any worse than I already did.

Nurse: "OK...there is a 90 minute wait before he is seen by the doctor."

Mum: "What? There are 3 people out there! If that's the case, I want to wait outside. There are way too many people out there that are coughing with fevers. I don't want to expose him to something while we are waiting for him to get stitched up."

Nurse: "That's wise. We will come outside and get you when he's ready to be seen."

We go outside and wait. And wait and wait and wait. An hour goes by. Then another hour. Finally, he's called back. We are taken to a procedure room with all sorts of cool things a 3 year old could get into! Gauze, tongue depressors, syringes (w/o the needles), and cotton balls. Toblerone was in HEAVEN.

Toblerone: "Whath thith?"

Mum: "Cotton Balls."

Toblerone: "Why thothe there?"

Mum: "To clean owies."

Toblerone: "Whath thith?"

Mum: "Sticks to hold down your tongue so the doctor can see down your throat."

Toblerone: "Why?"

Mum: "Just in case they have to check your throat for sores or something honey."

Toblerone: "Why?"

OK...I could go on with this little conversation for PAGES and PAGES, but I'll stop there. Eight o-clock rolls around and the doctor FINALLY comes in to see Toblerone.

Doc: "So...you got hit with something, huh big guy?"

Toblerone: "Yeth. Tithtan bit me."

Doc: "What? He bit you?"

Mum: "No. His older brother was playing "hockey" with a metal tube...DON'T ask me WHERE he found it...but he did. He highsticked it and WHAM...hit Toblerone in the mouth."

Doctor: *addressing me* I have three boys...I know what it's like to wonder HOW things happen and just WHERE they find the tools to hurt one another...accident or not. It's a part of life, Mom. No worries...he'll be just fine.

Doctor: *addressing Toblerone* "He's your EX-brother now, huh? Hahahah!!! Just kidding! OK...let me take a look."

He takes out his little pen light and looks at the wound (which looked like this, by the way):

(Gruesome, I know)

Doctor: "Wow...that goes all the way through! Let me check his teeth and gums."

He pulls out a tongue depressor. The SECOND that thing hit Toblerones tongue...the gagging starts.

Doctor: "Eh oh...we have a gagger. Just one more look honey..."

Toblerone: *BIG gag*

Doctor: "OK. Here's the plan of action. I'm going to have to put him on Keflex (Cephalexin) for 7 days since the wound is on/in his mouth and there is a high risk of infection. I'm going to put a topical anesthetic on it so the S-H-O-T won't hurt as bad. I have to warn you...this is going to be a rather emotionally draining experience...so I need your help as much as possible. I have to put 4-5 stitches in his lip. We're going to have to use a "papoose board" to hold him down, so if you could explain to him what that is and what is going to happen, it will help greatly."

Mum: "...I'll do my best."

I'm thinking to myself..."What the H-E-double hockey sticks do you want me to tell him???" But...being that I'm his Mom, I needed to soften the blow and explain what was going to happen so he's not freaked out at the get-go. I decide to take Toblerone on a tour of the room. Thank GOD I have worked in the medical field and have been to the ER enough to know what everything is. I found the papoose board and told him what that was used for. I showed him the thread that was going to be used to stitch up the hole and showed him the cover they were going to put over his face so things would stay clean. He understood...as well as a 3 year old could.

Around 9:00pm is when the real fun began. Toblerone was just fine laying on the table...and even went through 2 papoose boards with no problem (the first one, designed for toddlers, was of course, too small). Then...the needle came out.

Doctor: "Mom...you're going to have to hold his legs...this isn't going to feel good."

I'm holding his legs down...but even I forgot just how strong he was! OOF! He KICKS me in the stomach.

Doctor: "MOM!! You're going to have to put your whole body weight on him....he's a strong one!"

I wanted so badly to scream, "DUH!" but I was still trying to catch my breath from being kicked.

In the meantime, Toblerone is SCREAMING his head off saying, "MAMA!!! It hurts! It hurts! Make him stop! STOP, STOP, STOP!!!" It's so hard to hear your child say those words and not be able to make it better.

What seemed like forever was only 15 minutes of torture. The doc did a bang up job! Don't you agree?

As soon as that doctor said "All done", Toblerone hopped off that table got his shoes on and RAN out the door....not even WAITING for me! After getting Toblerone back into the room, the doctor said the following.

Doctor: "Toblerone...you were a BIG boy for us! Thank you for doing your best and being so brave!"

Toblerone: *gives the doctor the evil eye, then looks at me* "Mama? Leth go...I hungry."

Doctor: "Well...I guess that's that! Hahaha! Mom...you did good, too. With you being a mom to two boys, I'm glad you can stomach these things without too much trouble. You're going to face these kinds of things on various occasions. Just remember, boys will be boys. You can teach them to watch out for others and to be careful, but accidents happen. I hope your oldest isn't too upset. (If he only knew how upset Triscuit really was. Come to find out, he cried on and off the whole time we were gone.)"

After Toblerone drags me out of the Urgent Care office, we head out to Walgreens to get his prescription filled. When we walked in, there was a rather large (tall) African American guy talking on his cell phone to someone while trying to pick out a vitamin. He smiled at us as we walked by. I gave the pharmacist the script for the med and then walked to get Toblerone a chocolate milk. I turn around and the same guy had followed me to the drink coolers.

Guy: "Can I ask you something?"

Mum: "Sure!"

Guy: "How old is your son?"

Mum: "He's turned 3 last June"

Guy: "Ahhh...I thought so. You realize he's going to be a big boy, don't you?"

Mum: "Yes." At this point, I proceeded to explain Weenie's genetic history and how he has 6'8er's way back in the geneology.

Guy: "He may be bigger than that. My nephew was a little smaller than he (Toblerone) was at 3. He's now 7 ft tall and weighs 270lbs."

Mum: Well, at last height calculation, it says he will be 7'2."

Guy: "I believe it. Get him into sports now....he's built for it. Oh...and good luck!"

Hmmm....I wonder what he meant by good luck? I know I've said this before, but should I start body building now to keep up with him? Honestly...how do you parent a child that is going to be a foot and a half taller than you??? Seriously! Leave a comment...because I'm open for suggestions!

Now that all is said and done, I can (from experience) say stitches are no fun...for either child or parent. A little advice to other mom's reading this. Unless you are an emotional Hercules, try to take your significant other or another adult with you if you have to get stitches for your little ones. It's emotionally draining...and in MY case...it was physically draining, as well!