A staple to the head

Sound worse than it really is. Grant called me from middle school yesterday right as the bus should have been pulling away from the school. I thought he had missed the bus. So he tells me that he was hit in the head with a chair. Again, sounds worse than it really is. Grant was bending down to get his chair to put up at the end of the day. Another kid was picking his chair up, and it met Grant's scalp in a perfect storm of end of the day chaos.

Some points to make............Grant himself called me. Not a teacher, not a counselor, not anyone in authority. He was bleeding from the head. As I was waiting for him in the hall, in front of the assistant principal and the principal, they had no idea Grant was even hurt. Once I told them why I was there, they asked all the right questions. Also, my pediatrician, even though he has been in practice probably thirty years, does not do stitches in the office. I was referred to the ER, in the same medical building.

So as I await treatment in the ER, I have already called my backup, the one and only Janet, mother-in-law supreme, to get my other children where they have to be. You see, as you and I both know, if a monkey wrench it thrown into our days, we must then re-arrange the rest of our day. We are not free to just go willy nilly to the ER. Silly moms, chaos is our lives. We must make the calls, inform the dads, let them know you have it all under control, make sure all the kids will get where they need to go. This can then involve friends stepping in, family being roused from their routines, any and all help is called in. Because you have probably been called and stepped in when needed. We get all this done while waiting for the triage nurse to look at our kid.

They take a look and get us back to "minor" treatment. Clean it up, and tell Grant it would hurt more to numb it up and stitch it than to just staple it. The physician's assistant talks him through it, and one staple later, we are on our way. I did go to the pediatrician first, just trying to save some money if he did not indeed need stitches. Which he did. Which I knew, but money is tight, so off to the pediatrician first. Long day. One clue, if your child is hurt, always let them explain what happened. They know the story and then it does not look like you are trying to cover something up. The very last thing you need is CPS knocking on your door because you talked over your kid to explain what happened. That's just my two cents thrown in for free.

So, now he is affectionately called staple head by one and all. Thrilling, thrilling day. Just one more reason we as moms need to stick together.

Any staples in your life? Share the metal.

God bless you and yours.