It is funny how your heart will stop the minute your kid got hurt, and you forget how to breath until it is confirmed that your kid is okay.
Yesterday, Forrest, being a curious little boy, wanted to climb onto the computer chair, and play at the keyboard. Somehow, he lost his balance, hit his face on the desk, and fell to the ground. There was blood everywhere on Forrest's face, hands, inside the mouth, and his shirt. I remained calm, cleaned up the mess, and applied the pressure to Forrest's chin while inspecting the wounds. I saw an opening on the inside of his lip, and another opening underneath the lip. A thought of Forrest biting through his lip ran into my mind, and I thought to myself, gosh, he needs a trip to ER for the stitches. In the meanwhile, Stu called our pediatric office hotline, and talked with a nurse on-duty. She confirmed my thought of needing to go to ER. Off we went.
Forrest was barely frazzled by the whole affair. The only time he protested vehemently was when we had to hold him down for the doctor to inspect the wounds.While the doctor was inspecting Forrest, I was able to spy a final molar tooth cutting through the gum! The inside cut was too small in the diameters to require stitches, and the cut on the outside was recommended to be glue-sutured. However, with Forrest being too mobile, the doctor decided against it, and told us to keep eye on it for a sign of infection. The abrasions on the chin was the one that bled the most, which was somewhat ironic, and it took the longest to stop bleeding. We were released with an order to keep eye, and apply medicine on the cuts to keep it clean.
I had a feeling that Forrest was going to end up with a Harrison Ford scar on the chin, and a matching scar to his Grandpa Dave at that!
I had a feeling that the trip to ER was first of many to come yet.
Thankfully, Forrest woke up in a great mood, and acted like nothing had happened to him. Oh child of mine...of course, this has not stopped him from wanting to climb on to the computer chair! Therefore, that meant one very vigilant mama looking over him more closely, ha.