As I was lying down to rest with my Caterpillar, the phone rang and it was the school. Immediately, my adrenaline surged. No one should be calling me from the school in the middle of the day. Surely it was bad news. Gadget was in the nurse’s office and had hurt his head. They asked how quickly I could be there, and I was already getting dressed, grabbing my keys, starting the car and praying all at the same time. I parked in the fire lane and ran inside. The school receptionist asked me to sign in. I ran past her without a beat, straight to the nurse. I mean, did she really think I was going to stop and say, “Oh sure, I’ll just calmly write my name down,” while my son writhes in pain? Not this mom.
He was lying there very calmly and two nurses were tending to a very, very deep gash in his forehead. He was quiet, but there was a pool of blood on the pillow under his head and blood stains down his brand new shirt. Oh my Lord! I began checking all the places there was blood to see how many wounds he had, but it was only the head wound. There was just so much blood. They did their best to clean up most of it before I got there. They had placed three Mayhem-style butterfly strips over the wound. Once my eyes meet his, he realized how serious it was. My heart leaped and he tried to sit up and cried, “Mama!” My heart shattered, but I held it together on the outside. I knew if I lost it, we would be a hot mess of nonfunctional tears. We prayed out loud that he would be okay. I had called Hubby on the way to the school and told him Gadget had a head wound and would probably need stitches, so he was on his way. I called the pediatrician and told them we were on the way, while the nurses finished cleaning him up and put a bandage over the injury.
I was finally able to ask what happened. He said he fell on the playground stairs and hit his head on a pole. It was a clean, straight cut, but so deep. I didn’t realize how much flesh was sandwiched between your skin and skull. I called back Hubby to tell him to meet us at the pediatrician, but I couldn’t articulate the name of the cross streets. My heart was racing… What if it was a concussion or worse and every second counted. I carried Gadget out the school and laid him on the middle seat. He was screaming in pain, and I wanted to join him and cry, but my mommy strength was keeping the tears at bay.
I ran a red light and keep reaching back to hold his hand, but every time I spoke to him, he cried out even louder. At the doctor they were very nonchalant. The nurse weighed him and then called in the doctor. He glanced at the wound, asked what happened, and then the nurse came in with a tiny capsule of purple stuff, which I learned is called Dermabond. It’s supposed to be equally as effective as stitches for his type of laceration. They laid him down, glued his forehead together while he cried hysterical sounds that I never want to hear again. He asked to pray again because he was so terrified. I don’t think it hurt that bad. His tears stemmed from his fear of getting stitches. I think he remembers what he felt like to get his head stapled. Gadget screamed and tried to sit up every time someone touched him. My poor baby was so scared. They finished and placed a band-aid on his head, and by then Hubby was there. He asked the doctor all his questions. I was a little annoyed they didn’t evaluate him more extensively for a concussion.
Outside the office, Hubby gave me hug and asked me how I was doing. I told him I was going to lose it if he kept holding me. I was so focused on Gadget, I didn’t want my emotions to get in the way, but it was my first baby! At home we laid him down, and then the nausea started. He emptied his stomach into the trash can, and I laid down next to him to watch his every breath and twitch. The bruise on his head was swollen like a lemon, and I was equally concerned about his developing brain, and the fact that my beautiful boy was going to have a huge scar right across his perfect face. I thanked the Lord and petitioned that there was no swelling in his brain. The Lord is faithful and Gadget made it through the night in a sleeping bag at the foot of our bed without any additional signs of trauma.
His cut looks pretty nasty, but he’s handled it very maturely. He went to school without the band-aid this week, and he asks if it’s getting smaller and smaller each day. I’m so proud of him and how he cooperated with the school nurses. Hubby reminded me that this is just the beginning with my boys – they haven’t even started school sports yet. Great.