Reason #117 – Injury and (psychological) Trauma, continued
Reason #117 – Injury and (psychological) Trauma, continued
Nov 28At last! The much-promised second part of the injury story!
Recap: I was
googling wedding favoursworking on my laptop when I heard a loud BONK, followed by an ominous silence that preceded ear-splitting screaming: C had tossed and turned so much in his sleep that he had fallen off my very tall bed. Injury.
My boy was hurt and it was obviously my fault. I overcame my paralysing guilt and took immediate medical measures: I picked C up, sat him on my lap, cooed and sang and kissed the booboo away while I dabbed at him stanched his wounds with a wet wipe. No ER could have done a better job, and he was fine in seconds.
Me: “Cool! My job here is done! Let’s put you back to sleep so I can get back to DIY Weddings work.”
C: “Sleep? ARE YOU FREAKING JOKING!?!??!”
Suddenly all his wounds reopened and he started weeping as if he were in excruciating pain, and I mean at least “my pain is not fucking around” on the pain scale. “Funny – he was giggling a second ago. I wonder why I’m having a hard time buying into this relapse.”
So I dimmed the lights, armed myself with whisky patience, and set to soothing C and getting him to sleep again.
As if. The lil man had something on me and he was not gonna let up till he had milked it for all it was worth.
“Booboo, bed.”
“But I FELL, mama! And it was your fault!”
“But you are OK now and it’s time to sleep.”
“Aaaaall the way down from that towering bed! I could have cracked my skull!”
“Don’t make me crack it now! Yes, but fortunately you didn’t. Now sleep.”
“I was so scared! I thought I would die! For reals! I saw my life flash before my eyes!!”
This got boring really quickly. And you know what I do when I am bored? I read.
So I just stretched out an arm and picked up my bedtime novel, holding the book with my right hand while I used the left to pet/restrain/soothe C, who cried bitterly from the second he saw the book.
“Mother, don’t you love me? I am in pain, mama, PAIN! And shock! I just had a near death experience! Won’t you look at me? How can you prefer a book to your own flesh and blood?? Woe is me! My own mom doesn’t care for me! Boohoohoohoozzzzzzzzzzzzzz…”
This is how I managed to add trauma to injury.
Damn, White Noise is a wicked novel. I heartily recommend it to anyone who wants to read something good.
I had a similar scare last night. We are staying at my parents house while visiting for the weekend. This morning I was sleeping and was woken to him rolling over and then out of the corner of my eye I saw him roll one more time, but there was no more bed so down he went and off the very hard pointy corner of the nightstand he bounced. Instant screaming! I jumped up and soothed him. Luckily it looked worse than it was because he was fine after a few minutes. After playing for a bit I went to the restroom and there was blood on my clothes and shoulder, there was a tiny scratch on his chin.
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ofthesea Reply:
February 24th, 2011 at 12:44 pm
Aren’t babies supposed to have good depth perception after 6 months? Why must ours leap off the deep end of everything?
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So, three things here.
1. White Noise? Oh, yes. Mortality, man. (And THAT was your subject matter of choice in this instance?)
2. I am not yet prepared to share my own worst ever trauma to my guy, as I have not yet recovered (although he has no recollection).
3. That photo — if he made that face at me I’d be wearing a hair shirt for the next 6 months.
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ofthesea Reply:
November 29th, 2010 at 5:47 pm
I see that face on a daily basis. Twice on weekends.
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My son once fell from a rope swing that broke, I have no idea how far. He was outside alone (probably around 10 yo) and we didn’t hear him. He crawled up to the house, looked white as a ghost and I suppose had his breath knocked out of him, but didn’t even have a scrape on him. Then one morning about a year later he broke his collarbone by tripping on his own foot stuck in a blanket in his bedroom.
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ofthesea Reply:
November 28th, 2010 at 9:46 am
Exactly!! They manage to get injured just when you are least worried.
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Ooooh! I’ve been looking for a good read!
Wait, was there something about your child in this post?
Damn. There’s me, missing the point again.
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ofthesea Reply:
November 28th, 2010 at 8:33 am
You will love that book. LOVE. Trust me.
Kid? What kid?
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Was it International Have Your Tike Fall week? I had a similar incident with Bear – but blood was involved – and calling the wrong person. If you want a laugh I can ‘splain…..
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ofthesea Reply:
November 28th, 2010 at 7:56 am
Tell. Me. Everything.
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Carrie and the Bear Reply:
November 28th, 2010 at 8:34 am
O-kay. So Bear and I were involved in a game of Screech and Chase all around the first floor. We made our way into the kitchen and I said “Boo!” Bear screeched, giggled and quasi -fell/spazzed into the stove. And promptly burst into gut-wrenching sobs. It appeared he hit the rounded corner of the drawer and he didn’t hit that hard. So I picked him up and cooed and hugged until he was doing the hiccuping sob (you know, the “I’ve calmed down but I am still sad and trying to catch my breath” sob). I carted him out to our living room and set him down. I grabbed the laundry basket and his bottle and offered him the chance to climb upstairs in front of me, thinking this would cheer him up. It was when he walked by me to go upstais that I .SAW.THE. BLOOD!!! All down the side of his head. At this point he’s fine and Momma is losing her mind. I am wiping it up trying to see the cut/scrape/GASH. No use, squirmy baby decides he is fine. I decide it is time to bring in re-inforcements = Daddy. Who works a second job in the evenings at a pizza call centre so I get to stay home with Bear. (I know I over-reacted, but this was the first time I had seen my dear babe bloody!) Being all panicked about the sight of blood, I call the wrong call centre. I don’t realize this until the poor guy, who I have panicked, asks me to hold so he can get the number for the call centre in my city. Wait. There is only one call centre for pizza place hubby works at. Oh no. When the guy comes back and informs me that their call centre closes at 6pm (it is now 7:20pm) and their operators then work from home, do I inform him of my mistake? No. What do I say when he says “Where is your husband then?” I reply quickly “That’s a good question. Bye!” To make this long story shorter, I did get a hold of Bears daddy and he came home to help me clean up the tiny scrape (what?!?! that was it?!?!). Bear stayed up late and was poked repeatedly throught the night to ensure there was no concussion :)
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Carrie and the Bear Reply:
November 28th, 2010 at 8:34 am
Wow. Long. Sorry!
ofthesea Reply:
November 28th, 2010 at 9:15 am
Hey, no worries! ;)
ofthesea Reply:
November 28th, 2010 at 9:14 am
Isn’t it amazing how they bleed from seemingly harmless bumps, but come unscathed from scarier accidents? Weirdness…