Round three

July 30th, 2009

The exhaustion is familiar, the way my body crashes after the adrenaline rush of gathering the keys, my wallet, a diaper bag (the hospital has diapers, why do I always make Small Boy grab his brother’s diaper bag? I do it to give him something to do, I think, a job that will make him feel like he helped, a job that will keep him from crying, from becoming another child I have to take care of), getting the boys in the car, the short drive to the pediatric emergency room at the Inselspital. The check in, the exam (we had the same doctor as last time, a friendly young Austrian man who remembered us as well), the treatment: cleaning the wound – a sharp angular cut high on his forehead bleeding down his face, cutting away some of his beautiful hair, opting for glue and butterfly strips over stitches, waiting a bit afterwards to make sure he didn’t react to the medication, getting the discharge instructions, driving home. It is then, when we come home, that it sweeps over me, the exhaustion, the stress, the fear. It is then that I cry. It is then that I shake. It is then, afterwards, after the fact, that the walls come tumbling down. It is always after, after, that I fall apart.

6 Responses to “Round three”

  1. Trish on July 31, 2009 2:33 am

    Oh, dear. You poor things. Isn’t it incredible how we can hold it together? Mums are amazing creatures.

    I hope his head heals soon, and his hair grows back. Brave little boy.

  2. Jennifer on July 31, 2009 8:22 am

    That child is going to give me a heart attack.

    The doctor was funny and when he handed back Boychen’s ID card said he was sorry they didn’t have a customer bonus card. Yeah, that’s us.

  3. Betsy on July 31, 2009 12:55 pm

    Or a frequent flyer card! 🙂 So sorry to hear that you’ve had to go through this again! I hope his head heals quickly.

    What’s the old saying? Bad things come in threes? Let’s hope that you all are done with the ER for a while!!!

  4. After Words on July 31, 2009 2:12 pm

    Ugh–sounds awful. (I am the same way with the kids: fine in the moment, but much less than fine after.)

    Be well.

  5. christina on July 31, 2009 11:22 pm

    That’s nature’s way of making sure that what needs to be done gets done. The falling apart (and we’ve all done it)has to wait until later.

    One of my boys always fell on his head, the other on his lip. They still have the scars to prove it, but they survived it all with flying colours and don’t fall down much any more.

    I’m glad your wee one is such a tough little guy.

  6. Jennifer on March 13, 2011 5:43 pm

    This post attracts an absurd amount of comment spam, so I’m closing the comments. It’s so old I doubt anybody genuine feels the need to comment on it but if you do please comment on the post you can reach by clicking on the link “last time” within the text. Thanks!

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