It was 10 friday night, and the kids were all SUPPOSED to be snug in their beds.
And everyone was...all except for a certain Tweedle Beetle Twain.
I was at my computer, ironically, reading a tragic story about a 4-year-old-boy, when I hear hysterical high-pitched screams coming from my little boys' room. As I run to their room I am intersected by Twain who is running toward me with his hands to his face, covered in tons of blood.
Instead of keeping calm, I start shrieking for John's help, ASAP.
And now Ollie is up and is exclaiming "Twain has awesome blood!"
There was blood on two different door posts of our house, the floor and all over Twain's clothes. It was coming from his nose and puddling in his mouth. I had never seen so much blood coming from one of my kids.
!!!!!?????What on earth happened in there?????!!!!
It took a while to piece together the story, but it appears that Twain was standing on the BACK bed post and took a flying leap and smacked his face on the edge of the FRONT bed post.
Let's examine the trajectory of my son, shall we?
After cleaning Twain up a bit, John sent me straight to the ER for stitches. He just knew.
In the waiting room, I dabbed blood from under his nose the entire time. It just kept oozing.
Twain eventually fell asleep on me, from the exhaustion of it all.
The doctor examined him and said their was no question about it: Twain needed around 2 or 3 stitches...not glue, because the cut was at a funky "L-shaped" angle. The only question was whether to sedate him or not.
Since Twain was sleeping, I opted for "no sedation". How hard could it be? Twain is fairly mellow, and I figured if Ollie could survive stitches without sedation, then so could Twain. Right?
I was so very, very wrong. In hindsight, I wish I had sedated Twain.
We wrapped Twain in a sheet like a burrito, and the doctor numbed the area with a needle. Twain started kicking and thrashing so frantically, it took all my force to restrain him. And I can still hear his high-pitched frantic screaming. Poor baby was FREAKED OUT.
The Dr. said the worst was over. He wanted me to snuggle Twain back to sleep so he could stitch him up in peace.
By now Twain is in no mood to sleep. He is listless and keeps whimpering for a band aid...and to go home.
I don't think have even seen a more meager picture of Twain. 100% Meep.
Have you ever tried rocking a baby to sleep to no avail? It was stressful. He was not going for it. But I was nervous about sedating him, so I continued on, trying to get my wired child back to sleep.
He kept thrashing on me, and he got blood all over my hair. And all I could think of was that scene in the pub from Tangled where Flynn is asking the thug "Is that blood in your mustache?" And "Goldie, look at this. Look at all the blood in his mustache."
There was def blood up in this kid's mustache.
I finally got Twain asleep and it was now time for stitches. Twain woke up the minute the Dr. glanced at him. He was too wise for our tricks. He started screaming again. And kicking. And screaming. It was a high-pitched blood curdling scream that will haunt my dreams. I'm sure everyone in the hospital heard him.
Normally I can just power through these kinds of situations. Just part of having boys.
But this time it was different. It kept going on and on and on. I started laughing. Because otherwise I would cry.
"Should we sedate him?", I asked the doctor, in between stitches and screams.
He kind of shook his head no, and said "I'm almost done".
It was a long time before he finished. And by then I was completely shaking. All for two measly stitches!
The whole thing was just very unnerving. Next time I will sedate him. If there is a next time. I sure hope not.
By the time we got back in the car, Twain was happily chattering as though nothing had happened. Kids are resilient like that. I was still shaking as we walked in the door at 1:20 am.
We had a stern little lecture with Twain about jumping on his bed. "I will stay on the "helfy"(healthy) part of the bed next time...the part that makes me NOT hurt", he said as he patted the soft part of his mattress.
I hope you learned your lesson Tweeds.