Fall off swing meant ER trip

We have Yetis in our house. I was totally unaware of this until I called my daughter, Beth, to check on her four-year-old son, Jacob. He had broken his clavicle while playing with his older brother, Nathaniel, a few days ago and had a doctor’s appointment this morning.
We always figured that he would suffer the first broken bone of all her children as he has no fear. I don’t know what the boys were doing other than just being boys, but the result was a fracture. The doctor said it would heal on its own and to come back in three weeks. My daughter, the nurse, and her hubby, a paramedic, had bandaged him up when it first happened. They took him for an X-ray that showed the extent of the injury. He got a nifty sling to wear that he left somewhere over the weekend. Now, he is unbandaged and we are letting nature take its course.
While I was finding all this out, Jacob was in the background asking if I had taught our Yetis to talk yet. I had not known that Yetis had taken up residence, probably because they were so quiet. I told my daughter to tell him that the Yetis couldn’t talk, but that they made really great chocolate chip cookies.
Jacob’s adventure in the world of modern medicine came about a week after his two-year-old brother, Nicholas, had made his own trip to the emergency room. We were watching the children while their mom was at work. Their dad was on the way to school for his new job.
All three kids, Emma, Jacob and Nicholas, (Nathaniel was at his mom’s) were in superhero costumes. I had just looked outside and they were all playing in separate parts of the yard. I started to get a bath ready for them when Emma came running in.
“Nicky fell off the swing and he’s bleeding!” she exclaimed before dashing back outside. I went to the door and Nicky was, indeed, bleeding. I scooped him up and sat him on the kitchen counter. Blood was pouring out from just under his eyebrow. I used the washcloth on the sink to begin mopping up the blood. I yelled for my husband to bring me a clean washcloth.
Once I could see that the cut was about an inch long I asked hubby to call Beth at work to ask where the bandages were. I also wanted to know if we should bring him in to get stitches. All this time, Nicky was crying but hadn’t said anything.
When the bleeding finally slowed, I stripped off his Captain America costume to see if he was hurt anyplace else. I saw a small red spot on his arm but that was all. I got him bandaged and went to check on the other kids. My husband held him on the counter where the toddler promptly fell asleep.
We couldn’t wake him up and we panicked. What if it was more than a cut? What if he was really hurt bad? I called the kids in and gave them orders to put the small dog in the kennel, handed Emma a handful of carrots and told her to put the horses away, and told them both to put on some real clothes.
I laid Nicky on the couch with Jacob guarding him while my husband put their car seats in the back of our car. I put a diaper on Nicky (diapers don’t fit under superhero costumes), got Jacob dressed and we made a very long trip to the hospital where my daughter works. Nicky never woke up.
Once there, the doctor determined that no stitches were needed. A bit of glue was optional but Nicky screamed when they tried to apply it. Apparently it burns. Nicky still didn’t say a word. They cleaned and rebandaged his cut. Once we were assured that he was going to survive, we headed back. Nicky woke up and chattered all the way home.
I admire people who choose to work in the medical profession. To deal with people who are scared and injured takes a special kind of person. My insides were shaking as I was taking care of Nicky, Yet, Beth and her co-workers deal with much worse every day they go to work.
I am so thankful that both children will be fine. Now, how do I teach our Yetis to talk?

[[In-content Ad]]