"Concrete steps and faces don't mix too well," said Dr. Obvious.
It was the summation of a series of events that had started about an hour earlier as I was rinsing the shampoo out of my hair. My Supermodel wife had excitedly burst into the bathroom holding a 4-year-old with a mouth gushing blood.
In the bustle of a Monday morning routine, the 4-year-old had followed her mother to the basement where fresh clothes hung ready for the work week. Clothes retrieved, the mother had asked repeatedly for the child to come upstairs and get ready for school
The final, most urgent "request" got the 4-year-old to react. But the hurried footsteps slipped, or tripped, sending the child mouth-first into the concrete steps.
Blood spewed (it always seems to spew in cases like this) from a gash inside the lower lip and the gums of the top incisors. It was all accompanied by howls of pain which we would learn is actually a good sign, an indication (along with no loss of consciousness) that there was no concussion.
We applied a cold press while I finished getting dressed. The dose of children's ibuprofen had kicked in by the time we arrived at the urgent care center.
The kiddo was a good patient and allowed multiple people to poke and prod and feel. The diagnosis was a "minor laceration" to the inside of the lip and a slight abrasion on the outside. No sutures needed.
The aforementioned incisor was loosened. The dentist later predicted that, while the tooth is fine, there will undoubtedly be some discoloring which will go away when the permanent teeth come in.
So how was you're morning?
tagged: family, crisis, bloody, teeth, accident, injury, Monday
I know this won't make you feel any better, but I'm still mildy traumatized from a similar childhood accident.
ReplyDeleteAnd since commenting on your previous post doesn't seem to be an option:
It's true that several cool and hip people were in my home Saturday. I certainly wasn't one of them. They don't come any goofier than me.
Whoa, didn't realize commenting on previous post was turned off. That error has been corrected.
ReplyDeleteAnd you're right, your trauma doesn't make me feel better. But I guess it's things like this that make us who we are.
She won't remember a thing if you don't reminder her of it. When I was as tall as a door handle I was hit in the forehead when the door was opened. I was the first child to need stitches. Mom freaked because it was on my face & me being female. But the scar never bothered me. But come to think of it I don't like needles. So....
ReplyDeleteSpyder's right, Emaw. A parent would always bring up my big accident. "Remember the time you fell and knocked your front teeth deep into your skull, Happy? You sure bled a lot. We weren't sure you'd survive." Gee, thanks for the reminder.
ReplyDeleteI do the same kind of thing to my little brother:
ReplyDelete"Hey little brother, you remember the time I made you close your eyes then stuck a cinimon TicTac up your nose? You cried like crasy. Man, that was funny."