I've known for a long time that this day would come. The day we'd have to take him to the ER. How could I NOT know it when he's split his head open 4 times already???
Two of those times were fairly minor, even though there was blood. Two of those times weren't so minor but Dr. Daddy took care of it with some super glue.
This time, THE FIFTH TIME, we headed to the ER.
Good thing. Once they'd cleaned his head and moved the hair out of the way so we could actually get a good look I almost passed out. (Head feeling fuzzy, tingly, and spiny - good thing I was laying on the bed with Noah). This gash was pretty long and pretty deep.
Noah got three staples in his head today.
And he doesn't want anyone to know.
He was pretty traumatized by the whole thing. Not the gash he got at preschool - he didn't even cry - the part where we had to get it taken care of at the hospital.
These are some of the things he said (over and over again):
"I'm not going" (while hiding in the trunk of the van)
"I'm not coming back here ever again!" (fine by me)
"How do I get these staples out of my head!?! Tell me!" (ummm....)
"I don't like this choice you made!" (mom and dads choice to bring him to the ER)
"It's not cool mom - it's sad!" (after I tried to convince him his staples were cool)
"I don't want to tell anyone - it's a secret." (after I suggested he brag about his staples at preschool)
Overall, I'd say he was a trooper.
P.S. I didn't have my camera on me but I did get a picture on my cell phone of his head wrapped up like a mummy - in case you want to see it. I thought it was pretty cute (and sad).