I had a lovely post lined up today as I’ve been busy with a garden makeover whilst we’ve been enjoying this glorious weather. Sadly though, our weekend didn’t pan out quite as we’d planned. My sister-in-law arrived on Friday afternoon to babysit for us, but after the boys had eaten their tea we heard a loud crash in the garden. Running outside I found my eldest monkey screaming, lying under his scooter with a big cut on his lip. My heart was in my mouth, there was blood everywhere and the poor thing was beside himself.
Bringing him inside to clean the wound I realised immediately that a trip to Casualty was required. He was such a good boy – after the initial shock he calmed down and was quite intrigued about a trip to the hospital – what a novelty! We called our friends to let them know we wouldn’t be able to make dinner and set off, prepared for a long wait. On one of the hottest, stickiest days of the year, the children’s waiting room was full of poorly little people along with their anxious parents – I do hope everything turned out ok for them all.
The thoughts going through my head were mostly worry for my little man – How would he manage stitches? Would he have a permanent scar? Would it affect his speech? Overwhelmingly though, I was so proud at how brave he was. Unfortunately they told us that given his age, he would need to come back early the following morning for a little operation.
Following a fairly sleepless night we arrived at the children’s ward on Saturday morning and were looked after by a lovely nurse named Heather. After a while we went down to the operating theatre and met the facial surgeon. The worst moment came as I had to sit with my gorgeous three-year old in my arms as he was given a general anaesthetic – he really struggled with the mask and I tried hard to keep things together and stay brave myself. Once he was under, I burst into tears!
After what seemed like hours (but was in fact about 45 minutes) we went to pick up our little monkey from the post-op ward. He was very, very upset for about 20 minutes but eventually calmed down and slept beside me on his bed, until he woke up hungry and ate two rounds of toast and of course, some special chocolate stars for being such a brave boy! Later in the day he was ready to go home. The consultant was happy everything had gone well.
I feel a bit sad that his angelic little face is a bit less perfect (well I am his mum so I’m bound to be a bit biased!), but boys are meant to have scars aren’t they?! I’m also so grateful for the care we received in the hospital and most of all, I’m incredibly humbled by the parents with sick children, for whom hospital isn’t a novelty at all. The whole experience has really made me count my blessings and realise how lucky we are. Sadly we missed the wedding we were due to attend on Saturday but with two boisterous little boys, I’m sure this won’t be the last time we have to visit hospital. Hopefully though our trips to A&E will be few and far between!