They Had Him in Stitches

CAUTION: the details of this post are not for the squeamish.

Tonight was an adventurous night in the lives of the Japan Years men. Nicki and Josh picked me up from work so that we could turn around and drop Nicki off at the gym. Then our plan was to head home and make dinner for the guys while mommy worked out. That didn't turn out so well. Instead, daddy drove home in the pouring rain, helped Josh out of his car seat, and then we walked towards our front door. Unfortunately, as I began to turn the knob on the front door of the house, I heard Josh cry out in the type of voice that every parent immediately recognizes but hopes to never hear... the sound of intense pain.

As I turned around, Josh was hunched over on the front steps with his head tucked into his arm, half-hugging himself tightly. He cried out, "I hit my head". Apparently, he must have slipped and head-butted the corner of the top step leading to our front door. As I ran over and told him that he'd be okay, I noticed a steady stream of blood flowing - not dripping, but actually flowing - from his forehead, almost directly between his eyebrows. The flow of blood was so intense that in the two seconds or less that it took me to get over to him, blood was already dripping around his nose, below his eyes, and into his mouth. The wound looked pretty deep, so I carried him inside and laid him down on the floor with his head tilted back to keep the blood from his eyes. Then I ran to the linen closet, grabbed a hand towel, and began applying direct pressure to stop the bleeding. After a couple minutes, I realized that the wound wouldn't close on its own. Time for Plan B, the trip to the emergency room.

Knowing good and well that Josh wouldn't keep pressure on the wound all the way to the hospital, I thought quickly about what I could do to help keep it from bleeding along the way. A band-aid wouldn't be strong enough of a squeeze to do the trick. So I went straight for the scotch tape. Uncomfortable... probably. But under the circumstances... necessary.

On the way to the hospital, I talked to Josh to make sure that he was alert, asked him questions, etc. He did great and I knew that his mind was still active and functioning as normal. When we got to the ER, one of our doctor friends, Rich, was leaving for the night. He took a quick look and reassured me that head wounds tend to bleed like that and that "the bark was probably far worse than the bite". He also let me know that another doctor friend of ours was on duty tonight, in case we wanted a friend there to do the work. (It's nice to have friends within the doctor community, let me tell you!)

As it turns out, when we finally worked through the paperwork and got Josh to an examination table, the on-the-scene doctor told us that we'd likely need stitches, because the wound looked too deep for the skin glue that is sometimes used on shallower lacerations. I held Josh's hand through the entire process, though the poor little guy doesn't realize that his daddy is squeamish about such things and was struggling to watch any bit of the action on the table. I also noticed that the doctor's scrubs had a UNC logo, so I asked if he was a Tarheel and he replied in the affirmative. Despite better judgement, I told him that I went to NC State; he told me that was okay as long as I wasn't from Duke. Now, back to the action...

First, they cleaned the wound with a high-pressured saline water mix. During the intense wash down, Josh calmly but urgently said, "I'm all done. I feel better now." That right there is brave-three-year-old talk for "Ouch! Stop it! I'm done with you people!". After the wash down, they had to numb him. First, they used a topical solution on the outside of his skin to numb the surface. That didn't bother Josh at all. After 15 minutes or so, they removed that and then told me that they had to secure Josh's arms and legs so that he wouldn't move during the procedure. So they burrito-wrapped him onto a toddler sized plastic mattress and wrapped him with thick belts of Velcro. Surprisingly, he didn't even seem bothered by his new found lack of mobility. The nurse even commented that most kids go nuts when they are tied up like that.

When the doctor brought the overhead lights closer, Josh got a bit nervous. He closed his eyes as tight as he could and repeated, "I'm all done. I feel better now." The doctor reassured him that he had nothing to worry about. "C'mon, doc." I thought... "You've got a loaded needle in your hand". (Just a reminder that you can't trust a Tarheel). Moments later, the doctor injected the Novocaine into Josh's forehead. Twice. One on each side of the wound. After that, Josh was surprisingly calm as the doctor gave him four stitches in his head, then topped off the new threads with two glue-sealed bandages.


During the stitching, Josh and I negotiated over a post-ER "Chicken, Fries, and a Coke" at McDonald's. So after all was completed, we went over to the gym to pick mommy up and then headed over to Mickey D's. But not before two nurses offered Josh two stickers for being such a good patient. In fact, several people in the ER acknowledged that he acted much older and that most three year olds would have gone ballistic.

It didn't take Nicki long at all to notice her baby's new melon bling and by the time she got into the car I was already halfway into recalling the evening's adventure to her. Both mommy and daddy's nerves were shot. All the while, Josh sat there... a brave and courageous little man, ready for his "Chicken, Fries, and a Coke".