On Thursday, February 13th, Carter had his preschool Valentine's Day party. We went and had a nice time, and then we went home. While Daniel and I were in the kitchen about to start making dinner, Aubrey got really upset about something; I don't even remember what it was. So she went to our "calm down corner," which is a little spot between our big couch and the wall. She was, however, not calming down. Truth be told, she was completely losing it. And her freakout was increased by the fact that Carter kept bugging her.
He decided to lie down on top of the couch and poke at her and just generally bother her. I told him several times to stop and leave her alone, but he kept doing it and laughing. This, of course, made Aubrey scream more. Finally, he grabbed a long wooden toy (specifically the red arch of a wooden rainbow stacking set) and hit her on the head with it. So I, completely fed up with him, stomped over to the couch, grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled him down to take him to his room.
Unbeknowst to me, he kind of pushed off against the wall at the same time. So between me pulling him, the laws of gravity, his not insignificant weight, and the fact that he pushed off, he got some good momentum as he rolled down the couch onto the cushions. It was so much momentum, in fact, that he didn't stop. Instead, he came full off the couch and hit his head on the edge of the coffee table. It made a sickeningly loud thud.
I immediately went from angry to sorry when I realized he was hurt and said, "Oh, Carter, buddy! Are you okay?" and pulled him onto my lap to hug him. Daniel, who saw the whole thing happen, said, "Shoot, Michelle, he's bleeding." Carter was, of course, crying very hard at this point, and when I pulled away to look at him, there was a lot of blood. Daniel ran and got a paper towel, and I put it on the cut. It's a little fuzzy at this point, but I'm pretty sure Daniel asked if it was going to need stitches, so I pulled the paper towel back and said, "Yes, definitely." (He thinks he told me that it needed stitches, but I remember telling him. Anyway.)
So Daniel ran and grabbed the keys, grabbed Carter, and carried him to the car in less than a minute. He drove to urgent care, where they said they wouldn't be able to sedate Carter if he needed it. They actually asked Daniel, "Would you be willing to hold him down while we do it?" Uh, yeah, that's a no. So then they headed to the pediatric ER.
Meanwhile, I was at home sobbing and feeling awful. I called my mom and relayed the story to her through my sobs (not sure how she could even understand me), and I said I wanted to be with him. She told me to call a babysitter to come sit with Aubrey and Clara. So I called a girl from our ward who can drive, and she came over immediately.
When I got to the ER, they took me to Carter's room. He was sitting on the bed and watching TV with a bandage wrapped around his head. Daniel was sitting on a chair next to him with his head in his hands. When Carter saw me, he said, "Mommy!" and was excited to see me. I didn't feel like I deserved that kind of affection, but I was so glad for it. I sat in the second chair by the bed but felt like I wanted to be closer to Carter, so I climbed into bed with him and snuggled.
The doctors confirmed that yes, he would need stitches, and then Daniel headed home to put the girls to bed while I stayed with Carter. Before he left, Daniel warned me not to look at the cut. I figured that once they knew he would need stitches, the doctor would just do them and we'd be out of there. But the process was a lot more involved than that. And I'm actually very glad it was, because it made it a much better experience.
They started by giving Carter a popsicle to make him happy and help him feel better. Then they came in, removed the bandage, and put a numbing gel on the cut. I was so glad he didn't have to get a shot! The gel was super cold though, which Carter didn't like. I tried to distract him by saying it was like his popsicle, brrr, so cold! That seemed to help a bit. Then he got another popsicle, and that really helped, haha.
During that process, I ended up seeing the cut without really trying. And my stomach just dropped. It was big and deep, like at least a half inch deep. They placed a little plastic shield over the cut and gave the gel a good 45 minutes to work before coming back in. We just hung out and snuggled while watching Disney Junior.
When they did return, they removed the shield and wiped off the area around the cut. He was nervous, but they hung out with him and made him feel comfortable before they did anything to him. Then they gave him a sedative (a fentanyl nose spray), which he did not like at all. It was the worst part for him, other than the splitting his head open part. But he definitely needed a sedative, because before he got it he was very concerned anytime someone touched him.
While they waited for the sedative to take effect, they gave him an iPad and let him choose a movie. He chose Coco. Weirdly, the doctor said nearly every kid his age chooses that movie. I mean, it is a good one! So the setup involved the doctor on the right side of his head, a nurse at the top of his head holding it still, and a resident watching the process to learn. My job was to hold the iPad for him. They warned me that if I started to feel dizzy that I should immediately sit down. I figured I'd be fine.
And I was right; I didn't get dizzy. I did, however, start to feel very nauseated as they began cleaning the wound, and I seriously worried I was going to throw up. So I passed the iPad off to the resident and sat down. I asked if I could go get a drink from their water machine, but the doctor said, "I don't want you walking." So another nurse brought me a water bottle and offered his assitance with anything else I needed, which was very kind.
It was during the process of cleaning the wound that I really saw how bad it was. And that was what made me feel sick. Once I sat down, I couldn't see anything, so I didn't have to watch the stitching. Carter was a champ (and the sedative was a godsend), and the only complaint he had was that the thread was tickling his face. He didn't feel anything and was happy as a clam. I was SO glad. They finished it up by putting bandaids loosely over the top to keep him from touching the 14 stitches he got.
On our way out, the doctor gave Carter a stuffed animal for being so brave. He had a choice between a cat and a dog, and he chose the cat. Best of all, he named it Mr. Purr. He sleeps with it (and a couple other stuffed animals) every night.
On the car ride home, Carter was really funny. He was just kind of loopy and pointing out weird things, like, "Look, there's a light over there!" I tried to get a video, but he caught me and then asked if he could watch videos, haha. When we got home, we gave him a bowl of pasta salad since he had missed dinner. It was about 9:00, so we had been at the ER for a few hours. He was still just as happy as could be.
The next day, Carter was a tired little buddy. He took a little nap on the couch, and we got a picture. You can see the cut a lot better in it. You can also see him holding Mr. Purr.
Anyway, the whole experience was awful and made it hard for me to sleep that night. I just kept thinking about the thud and his cry and all of the blood. I didn't wash out his shirt for more than a week because it just made me feel so sad for him. The blood did come out, but I'll never see that shirt again without thinking of that night. *sigh*
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