Three whiskers

Yesterday, as I am getting Twain ready for his nap, I hear some major tom-foolery going on in the boys' bathroom.

"Calvin! Ollie! Settle down! What is going on in there?" I call out loudly, stalling for time.

I hear running water.

And laughing.

And lots of strange banging.

I'm getting antsy but before I can get to them, I hear Ollie's frantic screaming. I quickly put Twain down and come running out to meet Ollie.

His cheek is gashed under his eye and blood is squirting out. His skin is spit open and gaping and I can see his flesh beneath. I know right away that this is not our typical boo boo.

"What happened?", I interrogate Calvin.

"He fell into the bathtub", Calvin replies.

"Was he standing on something?" I inquire, quite doubtful that a tub could jump out and attack a child.

"No, he just fell in..." Calvin replies.

I quickly scan the tub. There is no water in the tub, just some toys laying at the bottom. And I do not see any blood in the tub.

I grab some napkins and apply pressure to Ollie's wound and bright red blood begins soaking the napkins.

Ollie cries hysterically and screams "bloody boo boo!"

By now I realize that I am no match for this cut and I start making phone calls. It is no easy feat dialing phone numbers with one hand, and applying pressure to the cut with the other hand.

And I am shaking a bit because the cut won't stop bleeding.

I call the pediatrician's office and am very blunt. "Ollie is cut and needs stitches. Do you do that in the office? Or do I need to go elsewhere?"

They tell me to go to the ER.

I call John's mom at work and on her cell. No answer.

I really don't want to drag all the kids in to the ER if I can help it. Especially Tweetle.

I call John's dad at home. No answer.

Finally I call John's work and tell him to meet me at the ER.

Calvin is the only one dressed. I load Ollie and Twain into the van in their pj's. I wore leggings to bed the night before(cuz they are SO comfy!) and throw some boots on...and a shirt and sweater.

The ER is busy but Ollie's cut has stopped bleeding profusely and now it's just oozing blood. The skin is still gaping open. I predict 2 or 3 stitches.

Ollie is chatting happily. "Fell in bathtub" he says when I question him what happened. Ok, the bathtub story it is!

We wait and wait. Twain is growing restless and keeps throwing his orange kitty on the diseased floor and then screams and demands that I pick it up again. Oh the joys of the waiting room.

Finally we see daddy gliding down the corridor in his blue dress shirt and orange striped tie.

Twain kicks his legs happily in his stroller. Clutching his kitty, he yells "Hi daddy!" It is very cute, considering our circumstances.

Daddy is smiling. We are all happy to be together. I am thrilled to have John as company with my restless children.

Ollie is called back for vitals and Twain comes along...destroying everything within his path.

After vitals, we are sent back to wait. It's almost time to pick up Finn from school. Perfect time for John to escort Twain and Calvin home...and they can pick up Finn.

As we say goodbye to daddy, the nurse calls out "Oliver?"

It's our turn.

Ollie sits on my lap as we wait in our little room for our impending doom. We wait for a long time and Ollie points out every single item in the room.

Stitches. Hm. Never done this before. I always wondered how Ollie would do in this type of situation. He is super sensitive. This could be ugly. But I knew we just needed to power through.

Finally a hip, friendly doctor comes in and puts me right at ease.

"Nice boots" he comments to me.

"Thanks" I reply.

Then,

"Aren't you grossed out?" I ask, pointing at Ollie's face.

"No!" he declares happily. "I love putting people's faces back together! I find it very exciting!"

He disappears for a while and eventually comes back with some needles and bottles.

They raise the table really high and hoist Ollie onto it.

"We are going to wrap Ollie like a burrito", he explains, as he wraps Ollie's arms and legs down with a white sheet.

I am instructed to hold Ollie's chest down.

The nurse is gonna hold Ollie's head down.

And the nice doc is gonna do his thing. I look away, but hold Ollie tight.

He gives Ollie's cheek a shot of lidocaine. It stings. Ollie screams hysterically and I cannot calm him down.

"Shhh it's ok. Mama's here..." I feel strangely calm. Thank you Lord.

Just gotta power through.

Ollie screams for a while as the lidocaine numbs his cheek. He is just plain freaked out.

And then, he suddenly stops crying.

I cautiously take a peak at Ollie's face out of the corner of my eye. And this image will forever be burned into my brain: His eyes are serenely closed, his cheek is orange from iodine and he is all wrapped in a white sheet like a mummy.

Sweet little Ollie.

The doctor starts stitching Ollie's cut...amazingly Ollie is calm and just whimpers a bit.

One stitch.

Two stitches.

After a few minutes the doctor says, "let's do one more".

Ollie fusses a bit and tears stream down his cheeks.

Three stitches total. Three whiskers.

After they clean the boy up a bit, they unravel my little burrito and hand him back to his mama.

She is so proud of her little boy. He grabs his mama and hugs her tight for dear life.

A little over 3 hours in the ER...and we finally get to go home.

We witnessed a lot of pain and agony from other patients there and so I was grateful to get home.

Home sweet home.

If you look close, you can see my reflection in his eye.

I was honored to be around for this whole little ordeal. Remember last time? I chickened out and made John take Calvin in for his broken arm.

Percy was also along for the thrilling little ride to the ER.

Percy is Ollie's favorite toy this week.

I did not expect to be in the ER yesterday dealing with needles...kind of ironic, considering my last post.

A mom of ALL boys...

Have mercy.