Poor Jack.

Poor little guy. We were headed out the door to the Renaissance Festival this morning, and he was SO EXCITED that he ran out the door to the car, tripped over our garden hose, and smacked his face hard into a planter on our walkway. It was completely filled with dirt, and decorative, so it had little sharp pieces glued all over it. He hit it so hard (with his face!) that he knocked it over.

Luckily I was right behind him. He immediately started screaming, flailing his arms and legs, and clutching his face. I'm pretty sure I will remember that horrible sound for a long time. His pain was so raw that it brought tears to my eyes. I rushed him inside to Justin and we tried to look at his wounds, but he was pouring blood everywhere. We couldn't see a thing, only that he had a huge gash on his nose and two deep puncture wounds on his cheek.

We didn't even really discuss it. I threw him in the car and drove straight to the emergency room. It struck me as odd: when your kid is not hurt THAT bad, but you think you should go as a safety measure "just in case," you debate and talk about it forever. (Or at least we do.) But when they are *really* hurt, like today, you just go. No words necessary. I knew his pain & injuries were out of my comfort zone.

In the car on the way:


We checked right in, got triaged, and set up in a bed. They put some topical numbing gel on it so that they could at least wash it. Jack flipped out about a lot of it. It didn't help that he had his shots just 2 days ago. The memory of that was fresh in his mind and he was distrustful of anyone in a white coat or scrubs.

(Warning- graphic pictures ahead. Stop reading now if you're squeamish!)









We waited for awhile. They wanted X-rays to make sure his nose wasn't broken, and to call in a plastic surgeon for the stitches he was bound to need.

Getting X-rays:


It is almost good that it took so long, because he calmed down. We played cards and watched videos on my phone. We talked a lot and told stories and jokes.

After X-rays, the plastic surgeon showed up. He was awesome. He was honest with me about the chances of scarring (yes, probably.)

The only problem was that he had to clean up the wounds to look at them, and Jack screamed and kicked any time anyone came near his face. A few nurses burrito-ed him up, arms swaddled in, while one held his head. I got the seat of honor stroking his hair and talking to his eyes while the doctor worked.

First, more numbing cream and then- the numbing shots. Two HUGE needles. Jack screamed a LOT during these and I don't blame him. I got queasy just watching. But once the medicine took effect, he was like a different kid. Totally relaxed, eyes closed, talking about how he couldn't even feel pain anymore. I was shocked. The doctor made a mention about how he touched bone in his nose with one of those needles and Jack screamed only a little (OMG) and how he seems to have a really high tolerance for pain. Wow.

Anyway, once he was numb, they really cleaned his wounds. Poor poor kid. The punctures were SO deep. As the doctor began his stitches, he was telling me about the nose and how he was going to use the viable flap of skin still attached to graft a spot on it. I was fascinated and horrified all at the same time.

Numbing gel:


Poor thing still bleeding after almost 2 hours:


After he was all numb, putting the iodine on:





All stitched up!





12 stitches later, he was in a much better mood and ready to go home.


We headed out with a follow up appointment to see the plastic surgeon on Thursday and prescriptions for antibiotics & pain medicine.

As we were getting in the car, he goes: "I should have just jumped over that pot, huh?"

That's my strong boy!!! :)

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone