Blood

I've never really been bothered by blood. There are plenty of people that don't like the sight of it. Especially their own. That's hasn't been a problem for me. Giving blood doesn't bother me. A needle doesn't either. I like watching the nurses find a vein and sliding the needle in. I like watching the vial fill when I'm giving blood. I'm not a big fan of really bloody and gruesome movies, but blood in general is okay.

Until today.

Some of you might remember my last run in with blood. It was in September and Dylan had fallen and knocked in her front teeth some. I thought I held it together pretty darn well. Thankfully I had Todd, and my brother-in-law (the medical resident) nearby. It was the first time either of the kids drew blood and I coped. No problem.

Until today.

Todd decided to go into work for a few hours of overtime and the kids and I were downstairs. I was sitting on the couch as the kids played and all of the sudden I heard Isaac fall and hit something. This isn't abnormal, but when I heard him wail, I knew he hit something hard. I leaned over the couch to pick him up and when I looked at his face, all I saw was blood.

Lots of blood.

I panicked. I am not afraid to say it. I panicked. I didn't know where the blood was coming from, just that there was a whole lot of it. I tried wiping it away to see what was causing all the gushing, but more came. I tried using water to wash it away, and still more came. I finally put my head on straight and grabbed a towel to try to stop the blood. During all of this I'm trying to calm a screaming Isaac down, call my parents to have one of them come over, and still try to see where the blood was originating.

My mom told me my dad was on his way, Isaac was finally calming down, I had finally gotten the blood to stop gushing (we were down to a small trickle), I learned the blood was stemming from the middle of his forehead, and I talked to Todd. Yes, I called for local backup before calling the bleeding child's father. Sorry, but to me, backup came first in this moment of crisis. I hope Todd will understand.

By the time my dad got to the house Isaac was feeling pretty good and watching cartoons. He was calm and the blood had stopped. He was so happy to see my dad too, so that was a good sign. He had a 1/2 inch gash down the middle of his forehead, right between the eyes. The perfect length of the corner of our wooden toybox. The perfect length. But by this point, he was happy and that was all that mattered to me at the time.

The next question was, does he need stitchs. I didn't really think so, but I thought he needed something to close the gash in his forehead. My dad thought it looked manly. Great, that's all I need is my one year old to look manly.

I talked to Todd multiple times during all of this as he was on his way home from work (which I felt awful about) and decided that instead of rushing him to the hospital I would call a good friend of mine. I knew that there was someone in our ward who was a medical resident and knew that she would be able to direct me to him. She immediately called him and he was over within minutes.

After looking at Isaac he was sure he wouldn't need stitches and thought he would be fine. He said it had some steri strips to put on his forehead to close the wound and he would heal nicely. That worked for me. Right before he was about to bandage up Isaac's forehead, Todd walked in the door. I let him hold Isaac down. I figured I dealt with the blood, he could deal with the squirming child. Of course, he didn't squirm once. Figures.

Everyone left and the crisis was over. Until Isaac started walking around and I wanted to follow him to make sure he didn't slip and fall, or run into anything or bang his head on a corner. I just wanted to put him in a padded room where he could do no more damage. How long will this feeling last? Hopefully not long, I don't have the energy for it.

My stomach is just now starting to feel a bit better. It hasn't been pretty for awhile, but now that he's in bed, I know he can't hurt himself. That's the good news. The bad news is that he will wake up in the morning and the worrying will start again.

Like I said, blood never bothered me, until today.

I said I'd be taking pictures each day and posting them, but I had no idea these would be the pictures I'd have for today. My poor little boy with the bruised, bloody and battered face.

Good thing Easter pictures were taken this morning!