I was getting ready to dish dinner Monday night. The kids were playing in the kitchen and Peter was helping to get things set up. I was turning with a plate in my hand as Thomas was walking by and Boom: Edge of Plate Meets Face. Right near the eye.
My plate was undamaged, but check out my baby.
Three stitches, right in a row. I'm starting to think Children's Hospital should pay ME for all the time I've spent there. It's like my job or something.
A friend of mine has a son who is the true Adventure Boy and has had stitches a number of times. She had told me how well Children's did on one set of his stitches, so we just drove right there. It was a long night, but they did a great job.
Thomas had a bit of a breakdown when the time came to actually DO the stitches, but once he resigned himself to it, he did wonderfully. I've been in an operating room or two myself and I know how overwhelming and out of control it feels to be surrounded by all those strange people. I didn't blame him a bit. It nearly broke my heart to have to do it, but once they started to stitch and he was obviously not in any discomfort (he would have certainly let us know), we both relaxed and it was quickly done.
I managed to go out and snap a picture before the stitches are taken out tomorrow. I'll be glad when that's over, too.
3 comments:
ouch! I'm glad he's alright...and hope you don't feel too badly, clearly it was accident.
Bless his heart! And yours.
Ow! (Which the first time I wrote "Owl". Made less sense that way.)
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