I ended the night with pants covered in blood and vomit.
NOT the way you want to start out a blog post.
All is well, though, relatively speaking. We survived.
After a long weekend where Michael worked and kids were, shall we say “trying”; we went into Sunday night with Noah running a fever. By bedtime he was pretty hot and at 1am, he woke coughing enough that he threw up all over his bedding.
I held him on the floor, he whimpered a lot and Daddy changed the sheets. I had had the idea to put a bowl on his side table for just that very reason, so it was not as bad as it could have been. But then, between the coughing and the thinking too much, I ended up with insomnia for most of the rest of the night.
And of course this morning Noah woke with a fever and a fowl mood, flinging insults every which way. After we took his temperature and announced that he would be staying home today, his mood perked right up and he got downright chipper.
Most of the day was fine with Noah continuing his mood swings and the twins being alternately needy, which was a good thing. One became clingy just as the other wanted to get down and investigate something across the room.
A big bag of popcorn went a long way to keep the troops happy.
Michael called and said that he had had a couple emergencies at work and would be doing paperwork later than usual, so I would be getting dinner together by myself. I had just moved the dining room chairs from the dining room into the living room, one 1970’s sunken living-room-step down, and swept the floor under the table. The twins saw their booster chairs (tied to chairs) in a new and fun (??) place and both ran and climbed up into them. Ethan buckled his own seatbelt and I headed into the kitchen to put the broom away.
And Luka screamed.
He is always, ALWAYS falling off of furniture, and smacking his head on the hard tile floor. I ran to soothe him, scooped him up from between the back of the chair and the step up to the dining room. He must have fallen over the back of the chair! I shushed him and shushed him and then noticed the dark spot on the floor. I touched it with a finger and found it to be a dark, very fat drop of blood!
I started looking in Luka’s mouth, his ears, his neck, under all that hair, nothing! I looked back down on the floor and now there were something like SEVEN fat drops of blood. I tilted his head around and saw nothing until I found blood on my thumb. When I pulled my hand from the back of his head it was just covered in blood. I had not even felt it. While looking through his hair, I found nothing, until I saw my other hand was covered as well. I began to panic and scooped him up and ran to the kitchen for better light.
And there on the very top of his head was a pool of blood running through his hair and like a river down the back of his head, matting the hair in wet dark stickiness. I freaked and grabbed the cell phone, called Michael, and through Luka’s screaming, told Michael to come home now!
The blood quickly coagulated as fast as it had come, but a full quarter of Luka’s hair was matted in blood. He continued to wail. I called Michael and told him it was settling down a bit, and apologized for the panic. He was on his way, and Luka was pointing from room to room as I was trying to find something to calm him. He finally pointed outside, and I took him out into the back yard where he wanted to get down, and it was there that I saw the gash clearly for the first time, an inch and a half long and about 3mm wide. Horrible. Like meat.
Michael pulled in and looked him over. Decided to take him for yet another visit to the emergency room. We put him in the car with Lambie (his lovey) and off they sped.
I went back in the house, dazed, explaining to Noah, who had woken (still sick) from his nap from all the screaming, what had happened to Luka. I began to clean up the blood: from the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, the rug, the window, the cell phone, my hands, my cheeks, my fingernails.
On the way to the hospital, Luka began to calm down quite a lot, and Michael decided to take him to his office instead of to the emergency room. The last trip to the ER cost 800 bucks and we didn’t even have any tests done! So, Michael and his nurse put Luka in a body-restraint, held his arms and head, gave him some shots and then Michael gave him 3 stitches.
He kept saying two of the few phrases he knew over and over: "Bye-bye??" And “Get DOWN!!”
He had chocolate chip cookies for dinner before heading back home.
And again, before bed, he was hopping all over the house, bouncing from one end of the couch to the other, giggling like a madman.
It was bedtime. Noah’s fever was still up over 100. We gave Luka some Motrin for when the Novocain (or whatever) wears off and I sat Noah in my lap while Michael spooned some cough medicine into him.
He immediately threw most of both spoonfuls up, into my lap, all over my hands. And I ended the night with pants covered in blood and vomit.
Not a good way to end a blog post, either.
But what can you do?
NOT the way you want to start out a blog post.
All is well, though, relatively speaking. We survived.
After a long weekend where Michael worked and kids were, shall we say “trying”; we went into Sunday night with Noah running a fever. By bedtime he was pretty hot and at 1am, he woke coughing enough that he threw up all over his bedding.
I held him on the floor, he whimpered a lot and Daddy changed the sheets. I had had the idea to put a bowl on his side table for just that very reason, so it was not as bad as it could have been. But then, between the coughing and the thinking too much, I ended up with insomnia for most of the rest of the night.
And of course this morning Noah woke with a fever and a fowl mood, flinging insults every which way. After we took his temperature and announced that he would be staying home today, his mood perked right up and he got downright chipper.
Most of the day was fine with Noah continuing his mood swings and the twins being alternately needy, which was a good thing. One became clingy just as the other wanted to get down and investigate something across the room.
A big bag of popcorn went a long way to keep the troops happy.
Michael called and said that he had had a couple emergencies at work and would be doing paperwork later than usual, so I would be getting dinner together by myself. I had just moved the dining room chairs from the dining room into the living room, one 1970’s sunken living-room-step down, and swept the floor under the table. The twins saw their booster chairs (tied to chairs) in a new and fun (??) place and both ran and climbed up into them. Ethan buckled his own seatbelt and I headed into the kitchen to put the broom away.
And Luka screamed.
He is always, ALWAYS falling off of furniture, and smacking his head on the hard tile floor. I ran to soothe him, scooped him up from between the back of the chair and the step up to the dining room. He must have fallen over the back of the chair! I shushed him and shushed him and then noticed the dark spot on the floor. I touched it with a finger and found it to be a dark, very fat drop of blood!
I started looking in Luka’s mouth, his ears, his neck, under all that hair, nothing! I looked back down on the floor and now there were something like SEVEN fat drops of blood. I tilted his head around and saw nothing until I found blood on my thumb. When I pulled my hand from the back of his head it was just covered in blood. I had not even felt it. While looking through his hair, I found nothing, until I saw my other hand was covered as well. I began to panic and scooped him up and ran to the kitchen for better light.
And there on the very top of his head was a pool of blood running through his hair and like a river down the back of his head, matting the hair in wet dark stickiness. I freaked and grabbed the cell phone, called Michael, and through Luka’s screaming, told Michael to come home now!
The blood quickly coagulated as fast as it had come, but a full quarter of Luka’s hair was matted in blood. He continued to wail. I called Michael and told him it was settling down a bit, and apologized for the panic. He was on his way, and Luka was pointing from room to room as I was trying to find something to calm him. He finally pointed outside, and I took him out into the back yard where he wanted to get down, and it was there that I saw the gash clearly for the first time, an inch and a half long and about 3mm wide. Horrible. Like meat.
Michael pulled in and looked him over. Decided to take him for yet another visit to the emergency room. We put him in the car with Lambie (his lovey) and off they sped.
I went back in the house, dazed, explaining to Noah, who had woken (still sick) from his nap from all the screaming, what had happened to Luka. I began to clean up the blood: from the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, the rug, the window, the cell phone, my hands, my cheeks, my fingernails.
On the way to the hospital, Luka began to calm down quite a lot, and Michael decided to take him to his office instead of to the emergency room. The last trip to the ER cost 800 bucks and we didn’t even have any tests done! So, Michael and his nurse put Luka in a body-restraint, held his arms and head, gave him some shots and then Michael gave him 3 stitches.
He kept saying two of the few phrases he knew over and over: "Bye-bye??" And “Get DOWN!!”
He had chocolate chip cookies for dinner before heading back home.
And again, before bed, he was hopping all over the house, bouncing from one end of the couch to the other, giggling like a madman.
It was bedtime. Noah’s fever was still up over 100. We gave Luka some Motrin for when the Novocain (or whatever) wears off and I sat Noah in my lap while Michael spooned some cough medicine into him.
He immediately threw most of both spoonfuls up, into my lap, all over my hands. And I ended the night with pants covered in blood and vomit.
Not a good way to end a blog post, either.
But what can you do?
6 comments:
oh, honey, I feel for you!!
hugs,
Jessica
Oh wow. Will this child ever learn? Doesn't look like it. I can't imagine poor Michael having to put stitches in his own kid. That must have taken some nerve. And I know how terrified you were. I've been there with both you and your brother. And what was Ethan doing during all of this? I hope everything is ok now and things will settle down for a few days at least. How is Noah doing?
Girlfriend, you need some down time.
(((HUGS)))
Wow... I slack for a few days and this is what happens?! So sorry you had to go through all that trauma. And kudos to daddy to patch things up, literally and figuratively. Hopefully things are much less chaotic now.
Oh for crying out loud! What's that kid doing anyway? So glad it wasn't worse!
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