Our first stitches

With two small kids, stitches were inevitable. I'm actually surprised it took this long!

On May 8th, Nate was out back helping Stewart reclaim some lumber from a construction project a few houses down. After a while, I heard Nate crying and Stewart came hustling into the kitchen. I watched him pass by I saw drips of blood hitting the floor. Stewart told me "it looks deep" and I knew we were headed to the hospital.



Our car was in the shop so our wonderful neighbor Sara drove us to Children's. The nurses confirmed that he'd probably need stitches and got us right back through triage into our own little private room, complete with a TV turned to cartoons (I love Children's hospital!) Nate was happy to lay back and zone out.



They did an x-ray to make sure there was no metal left in the cut (there wasn't), plied us with fruit punch and sandwiches, and we were left to wait for the big stitch-up. I joined him on the gurney and we had a bit of a cuddle watching TV together. Look at the blood running down my poor sweetie's leg!



On the way to the hospital Nate had asked me if the treatment was going to hurt, and I was frank that it probably was. I made him a promise that if anything was going to hurt, I would give him fair warning. Each time a nurse or doctor came in, I made sure to tell them that I had promised Nate he'd get fair warning if something was going to hurt. When the doctor came in to do the big job, it was time to give him the fair warning: this was going to hurt.

The doctor asked if I wanted to "papoose" him to restrain him, and I talked it out with Nate. We decided not to restrain him and to have him sit between my legs (partly so I could help hold his hand still for the doctor) and she started injecting the anesthetic right into the cut. Blargh. Nate was crying and yelling, and after 5 or 6 she gave him one that made him scream and pull away. It was awful. She had to do another 4 or 5 and then she was done. He calmed down quickly and lay quietly during the whole process of stitching it up.





He took such amazing good care of his hand, keeping it clean and dry. For the first five days, he really didn't use it at all; he held it pitifully in front of him. He had them removed yesterday; it was a little traumatic but he handled it well. I am so incredibly proud of his maturity, self-control, bravery, and independence.

And to round out this long post about 4 little stitches, here's Nate rapping: