She called me at work and told me what happened, and I met her at the hospital, and by the time I got there about 30 minutes after it had happened, he looked and acted pretty normal. One of the doctors noticed that he had a big ol' knot on the back of his head, and that combined with the fact that he threw up made them decide to do a CT scan to make sure there wasn't any internal bleeding or anything. So they checked him out, and everything looked ok, but they decided to keep us in the hospital overnight so they could keep an eye on him. He's seemed fine and back to his normal, smiley, cute self. So we got home this morning at around 10, and I pretty much spent the rest of the day in bed until I had to get ready to go to work this evening. The Jeanners, I think, also turned in pretty early. She's asleep now in the other room. By the way, I would also just like to say that I have reached to pick up a fresh diaper with him on the changing table about 500 times, so it's pure chance that it happened while she was here and not me.
I actually really kinda like hospitals. I mean, I hate being in one tiny cramped room for extended periods of time, just waiting. And I hated the experience of Sam's delivery, but as far as the people go, and the actual buildings, I really love them. My experience has been that the people are all really nice, or super talented and efficient and pleasantly confident, or a combination of all of those things. And the buildings have all been clean, and efficient, and have the combined qualities of a super-insulated hush and a noisy bustle. I don't know. Maybe it's because I've always been at the hospital because of someone else's situation. Maybe I wouldn't like hospitals if I was the one who was sick or if I was the one having a baby pulled out of my loins.
In other news, my Dad went skiing for the first time today. He's 75. My mom got him a gift certificate to go skiing at this place near their house. I think it's something that he's wanted to do for a long while. He's always been pretty athletic, although in a run-all-day sort of way rather than a get-pumped-and-huge sort of way. Anyway, I am weirdly proud of him, because I know that he was excited but also nervous and scared about it, too. And trying new things is not usually his strong suit. So I'm glad that my Mom got him the gift, although if he had hurt himself (a pretty good possibility), I probably would've said she was crazy for giving him the gift.
Anyway, let's all try something new tomorrow that scares us a little bit. Also, let's avoid trips to the emergency room. Is it possible to do both?
4 comments:
Do you remember the time you were in my old house in Columbus, and Henry was but a wee babe, and he rolled off the changing table? I think you were coming with us from St L and stopping in Columbus on your way to Balto. We shared a moving truck or some such. ???
I remember everything except Henry rolling off the changing table.
Hard to believe he's 11, no?
Well, he did. Right onto the hardwood floor. It was terrible. And, look, now he's 11 and completely undamaged by the whole thing.
I remember one trip to the ER when #2 smashed her head and kept falling asleep on the drive. Scary. But after the head-scan trauma, which #2 wailed and screamed through, and after all the waiting, a nurse gave the girls popsicles. On the way out into the daylight at last, #1 remarked, "That was the best day ever." I'm not sure I'd go that far, but it wasn't a horrible experience, either. People are really kind in hospitals.
I'm terribly impressed by your father. My father and father-in-law were a slippery sad disaster on skis, so much so that they both reflected on how old they felt at the end of the day. Fun day FAIL. Your dad rocks.
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