Saturday, 20 October 2012

Our first trip to A&E: Parent styley

So, last Sunday started off well. A vaguely chilled out start to the day.
I took the boys to McArthur Glen to get them some new shoes.
My parents were there so we had lunch.
The boys were exhausted and had a sleep on the way home.

When we got home, the three little people played in the garden.
Mr J watched on whilst I got the boys clothes together for their stay with my parents.

All of a sudden there was 'that' cry. I mentioned 'that' cry when Cheeky got his first blood wound. If I'm honest, this cry wasn't so bad. That's not saying I didn't run to him any slower, but when I got there I wasn't expecting the blood.

So, it transpires, Tiny had thrown a stone at Cheeky.
We have gravel behind the garage, where I've put their cars and stuff.
The boys had decided to play with their cars, which resulted in them playing with the gravel.
With all the hazards of the garden- the climbing frame, the swing, the sandpit- I hadn't expected a piece of gravel to be the cause of our first trip to A&E.

The blood was pouring and I couldn't stop it.
Mr J tried his best, using one of his head bands for squash to keep some kitchen paper in place so Cheeky could be driven to A&E.
It turned out going to the local hospital/ drop-in was no good, there were no facilities for stitching, x-rays or head injuries. Instead Mr J would have to take Cheeky to the A&E at Heath Hospital. Oh, and did I mention Mr J's still not that conversant with the geography of South Wales.

Mr J did find his way there. And, with a call to my mum to sort the remaining two little people, I was able to get to the hospital too.

What can I say? It doesn't get any easier.
By the time I arrived the blood was no longer pouring, if truth be told, the wound didn't look any bigger than the one on his eye the other week, but because the stone had hit his temple the blood had just poured.

Of course the hospital staff were amazing, of course they were under resourced, and couldn't give us any indication of our waiting times. And of course there were priorities elsewhere on A&E that were calling in their resource.
And if I seemed ungrateful it was more because I couldn't decide if we were a drain on their resource or not.
I'm not sure if you can tell from the pictures how much blood came out of Cheeky's wound, it seemed masses, and I had panicked.
And after an hour or so of waiting, and the blood stopping, I felt I had over reacted.
Cheeky, of course, did nothing to support why he might be in A&E, he actually just reinforced how he ended up there. Climbing everywhere, running and hiding in every nook and cranny. Refusing to settle.

And when he was seen, in really good time in my opinion, whilst the wound was healing and they were ok that whilst it was an injury to the head, it wasn't a head injury, they did 'glue' the wound back together so the scar wouldn't be as visible.

And this is Cheeky a week on.
And now we can say:
"As if Tiny inflicted the first scar."
"It's so much easier to tell them apart."

Not only do I feel like this is a complete parent fail.
But I feel like it's a milestone, I'd rather have avoided.
Our first trip to A&E.

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