Saturday, August 1, 2009

Is it bleeding?

Hehe, there I am enjoying my first coffee of the day, and the front door bangs open. Howling skirls up the stairs as Blammo charges inside and starts wailing "Mom, I hurt myself!" I turn in my chair to see him coming up the stairs, the entire front half of his hair saturated and bright red, blood covering half his face and dripping from his chin and nose.

"What did you do?" I ask as I usher him into the kitchen and grab a tea towel to soak with cold water and press it onto his...whatever is bleeding.

"I slipped at the park," he wails, "and hit my head on a rock!"

My buddy is hopping from one foot to the other, looking panicky, then decides she'll deal with the trail of blood on the floor and stairs.

"You're okay, dude," I tell Blammo, pressing the towel hard onto his head.

"Is it bleeding?" he asks.

The kid is literally covered in blood and he asks if it's bleeding. Um, okaaaay. "Yeah, dude, it's bleeding quite a bit, but it's probably just a little owie. Scalp wounds tend to bleed a lot, even if they're small."

After ten minutes of swabbing and trying to see through his trademark Saell thick hair, I still can't see the wound clearly, so I get him into the bathroom and get a tub running. "Hey, dude, you need to hold the towel so I can get your shirt off." I look at the blood all over his shirt, the size of the neck-hole and the size of his head, and decide, "I'm going to cut it off."

"CUT WHAT OFF??!!" he howls.

"Your shirt, dude," I laugh.


After about five minutes of pouring water over his head, I see an abraded patch about an inch in diameter, and two tiny perforations maybe a millimeter long. Through which, he bled a half a gallon of blood. And it's still seeping a bit. Stupid scalp wounds. But he won't need stitches. He's now playing World of Warcraft with a teatowel pinned turban-style around his crown, with a baggie of frozen corn tucked inside.

And the little bugger has been milking it for all it's worth--"Mom, I want some juice. Mom, I want some Dibbs. Mom, I can't reach my grapes. Mom, can you help me sit up? Mom, I wanted my salami rolled up, not flat." Oy.

Oh well. He's fine, if a bit whiny. But that was my morning. Wheeee!



sylvia said...

Ouch, poor love. But I know what you mean about scalp wounds - the amount of blood is IMMENSE! He deserves a drink or two. And maybe even one rolled-up salami ;)

Glad everyone is OK

kirsten saell said...

It was kind of funny, actually, because when he came in, he kept saying he'd hurt his palms, and I was just, "C'mon upstairs and let me see." And then he comes up the stairs looking like something out of a horror movie.

I guess he fell on his head and hands, and when he rubbed his sore head and saw the blood on his palms, he thought they were what he'd really hurt. And even by the time he'd come in, with a flood of blood pouring down his face, he didn't realize it was actually his head that was bleeding so bad.

Poor kid. And he swore up and down that he'd "never go play in the park again!" But when I got home from work tonight, there he was on the swings, lol. And he comes up to me with some 250 lb test fishing line he found and asked if we could use it to stitch him up. Um, dude, the stuff is a millimeter thick!

Amy C said...

Oh wow! I hope to never experience a head wound with my son. My panic would cause his panic to only intensify. I would be the worst mom in a moment like that. But then agian, until put in a situation, I cant really say how I'd react. I would probably be as calm as I needed to be to get though it with him. You seemed to handle it well!

He must have been a bit of shock if he thought his hands were hurt and not his head! But at least he bounced back all right, asking if he could stitch himself up with some fishing line! HA! Kids think of the damndest things!

So glad for you that it wasn't too serious!

MB (Leah) said...

Oh he's definitely your son asking to stitch him up with an old fishing line. How utterly creative! LOL

I loved how you reacted to it. No freaking out or drama, but just another day with kids. snort.

kirsten saell said...

Well, my friend was totally stunned by how calm I was--she said if it was her kid, she'd have wrapped his head in a towel and dragged him to the ER.

I credit my mom. She was always really matter of fact with injuries, and even when we were little and getting shots or blood drawn and the nurse would be all "look out the window" or "close your eyes", Mom would say, "You go ahead and watch--it's your body." Nothing makes a doctor's eyebrows go quite so high like a kid who insists on watching him stitch up her knee, lol.

Of course, that meant I was always the resident triage expert when I was a cook. "Holy crap, Gabe cut the tip of his finger off!! KIRSTEN!!!! Come deal with this!"

Ahh, good times....

jenn said...

What is with kids and the specially arranged cold cuts??

Glad to hear Blammo's back to... normal? Apparently mine's puking his guts out.

kirsten saell said...

Glad to hear Blammo's back to... normal? Apparently mine's puking his guts out.

Ahh, the dreaded bazooka barfing, how I miss that. I remember a time when he ran for the bathroom, didn't make it in time, and there he was, trapped against the tub and me at the door, and an eight-foot-wide ocean of barf separating us. It got everywhere but the inside of the toilet...

Hope your little guy feels better soon. Puking is never fun.

Mine is still milking it--insisting the other kids have to be "extra nice" to him because he's wounded. Shyster.