BarefootinBoston

Yesterday I was in the kitchen, prepping some stuff for dinner.  E had just eaten his lunch and was happily standing and crusiing between the cabinets and stove.  He lost his balance, fell on his tush, and then on his head.  I rushed over to him, picked him up and comforted him.

Then I looked at my shirt.  It was covered with blood.  My arm was covered with blood, my neck, my chest.  I started to panic.  I checked E’s mouth, no blood.  I checked E’s head, no blood.  I looked at myself again, there was more blood on me.  Finally, I noticed that it was E’s hand.   Then I noticed how quickly it was coming out.  Then I really started to panic  (I know, I know, not the thing to do).  I called A and asked what to do-he said to bandage him up and take him to the hospital.   Sounded good in theory, but I just couldn’t bandage E up.  He wouldn’t sit still for me to look at his hand, I didn’t want to hurt him even more by trying to wrap him up.   Being the great wife I am, I started to get angry with A and hung up, saying I needed to take care of things…yea.

A few minutes had passed and the bleeding was still pretty heavy.  F@*k this I thought.  I’m calling 911.  So I did.  And actually calmed down.  The funny thing being that E, once I calmed him down for falling and hitting his head, wasn’t upset at all.  If anything,  he was just bothered by my holding his hand wrapped in a paper towel.  A couple of minutes after I called, a police officer showed up.

“What happened?”

“My son cut himself, I’m not sure on what, and a chunk of his finger came off.”

“Do you have it?” the police officer asked.

“Um…no, no, it’s not a piece of his finger, just the skin.”

Ok, now I was feeling pretty badly.  A paramedic and firemen showed up…totaling at least 6 people.  Two of them looked at E’s finger.  They couldn’t figure out where it was cut, but said it wasn’t too bad, and that he wasn’t in dire need of medical attention.  The wrapped it up, suggested I get him a tetanus shot (at that point I had NO idea what he had had for his shot) and seek medical attention if I wanted to (um…YEA!).  Then they all left.

Yea, maybe I over reacted a bit, but I was covered in blood, COVERED.  It looked so much worse than it was.  So, I packed up a few things in E’s diaper bag, grabbed a hoodie to cover my bloody self, loaded the car up, and off we were to the dr.’s.

A met us there, thank goodness, and was surprised at how Emerson was…normal.  We brought him into the doctor, the doctor looked at E’s finger and told us this

He has a superficial cut on the tip of his finger.  The cut that he has on the middle part of his finger isn’t too bad.  Luckily the skin is still there, so it will heal better.  Babies heal very quickly.  Stitches are not needed.  Just make sure change the band aid when it gets nasty looking, and keep it clean.  The only thing we’re looking for is infection.  Keep it covered until Monday.  Call me tomorrow and let me know if it’s still bleeding and how he’s doing.

Ok…phew.  Even though I called 911, over reacting a bit, my baby was going to be ok.  In a way, I’m glad that it happened like it did.  I’ll be better prepared for the future when things are worse…because of course they will be.

And I was feeling like a negligent mother, my perfect baby injured at only 9 months.  But, things happen.  And how he got cut?  The pair of tongs that I had in my hand when I went to comfort him-my guess is he grabbed them and cut himself.  As A puts it, you went over to make him feel better, that’s not a bad thing.

Lesson learned-don’t have anything in hands when comforting baby…

E has mostly mastered the art of cruising.  I can put him on one side of his exersaucer and he will make it around the whole way.  I can put him on one end of the bed and he’ll make it past the corner.  I can put him on one side of his exersaucer and, if it’s close enough, he makes it to the bookshelf.  You get the picture…he’s getting closer to walking.  Yikes.  What’s even scarier for me right now is when in the midst of cruising, he ‘look ma, no hands’ it from one thing to another.  I saw him do it yesterday and jumped to grab him.  Luckily, I didn’t make it to him (and he didn’t notice me) because he went from one thing to another just fine.  Oh boy…a sign of things to come.

I went and visited my mother, and mother in law, the past couple of days.  I was getting a bit bored being around here and wanted a change of scenery.  So E and I hopped in the car and went up north.  I was hoping to get maybe a little break from E, just a little.  I did get to sleep in, but wasn’t really given much of a break.  I guess I can’t ask for it all.

While I was there, I was talking with my mother about my grandparents.  They are moving into a retirement facility (not a ‘home’) in a few weeks.  My grandfather has immaculate degeneration and my grandmother is bi polar.  Makes for quite the pair.  My grandmother is also in the early stages of Alzheimer’s, so, it’s a bit messy.  My poor grandfather, not really being able to see much, has to cook for the both of them since my grandmother just ‘doesn’t feel like it’.  Boy, I hope that this is not the situation I get in with A when I get older.

I’m truly scared of the bi polar, manic depressive thing.  It’s apparently hereditary.   I feel like I already see parts of it in my mother.  She isn’t really manic or depressive, but some things just don’t seem right.  And sometimes I find myself saying or doing things my  mother has done, and it makes me worry.

The worst part is, I can’t do anything about it.  Well, I can be aware and educate myself on the sympotoms, therapy, etc., but it’s not like some other illnesses where you can (or we are told you can) partake in this or that to at least make the chances less.

So, although I’m a ‘mere’ 26, I’m already thinking of what may be happening to me 30, 40 years down the line.  Yikes.