SPLAT!

Here we have Matthew. Lovely, huh? Sigh. Short story...I was cleaning up the kitchen. I heard THUMP....WAAAHHHHHH! That's all I know. Jonathan was no where near him, niether was the dog. Blood was everywhere. Called the pediatrician, explained what it looked like, and got the ever-so-helpful "we don't even look at facial injuries, you have to take him to the ER". Heavier sigh. Okay, I get the part about how the lowly pediatrician doesn't want to make a call on whether a facial injury will need stitches, etc..., but can they at least LOOK at it? I asked the nurse that. She says - "Well, does it LOOK like it needs stitches?" What I wanted to say was "HOW SHOULD I KNOW, I'M NOT A DOCTOR, MORON!!" Isn't that why I called in the first place? So off to the ER we go.

Fortunately, the ER was practically empty at 2pm on a Wednesday. Unfortunately, the one other person who was there, and who was directly ahead of us was puking her guts out. Great. I got out the wipes. Meanwhile, Jonathan is talking non-stop, and Matthew, despite blood still trickling is running wild. After an hour and a half of waiting, seeing triage, waiting, going to registration, waiting some more, wipes still out, getting put into a room, waiting, more wipes, boys rolling on the floor, more wipes, more wipes, more wipes, we finally see a doctor.

No stitches necessary, he says. But that "flap" of skin will probably turn black and fall off. Yummy. Home we go, with some antibiotic ointment to keep germs out. Yeah, right.

Once we're home, Jonathan is acting strange. First, he sets up a barrier between him and Matthew at the dinner table, telling us he doesn't want to look at Matthew. Next, he refuses to get into the tub with him. Meanwhile, he is absurdly curious about how his wound is progressing, checking it every once in awhile to see how it's doing. A little odd. It was a week before I found out why.

Eventually, Matthew's wound scabbed over and although it never really turned black and fell off, he did lose the scab, so I guess that sort of counts. And he has a little scar, but it it well camoflaged next to his nose, so it could've been a lot worse. Apparently. Jonathan tells me one day that the "doctor was wrong, Mommy." I'm like, "What doctor?" He tells me "Matthew's doctor. Matthew's doctor said his nose was going to turn black and fall off."

Ahhhhh, like puzzle pieces falling into place - THAT'S why he didn't want to look at Matthew or get into the tub with him - I guess I wouldn't have wanted to either if I thought his nose was going to turn black and fall off!!! Poor kid. Next time, I leave Jonathan with his daddy or a friend when I take Matthew to the ER.....because I know there'll be a next time. Despite being really careful with these guys, this was our fifth ER visit with the boys. May it always be so minor....

And happily, we didn't wind up getting whatever puking-woman had. Thank you, wipe manufacturers. I owe you one.