Bloody noses and brain injuries

Yesterday I had to be downtown Dallas for a nursing conference and sometime after lunch I get a call from Sir Toots's daycare. Now, viewing caller id and seeing who it was causes my blood pressure to rise just a bit. I try not to panic as I answer it, but when she starts to tell me that there's been an accident I really start to feel the pressure in my chest. Evidently, Sir Toots was running full out and slammed into a pole. Now, I would be right there with you and your small chuckle over this simple playground accident if I hadn't heard him crying in the background. It was a sad cry, not the usual gale force that erupts in true pain. This was a sad little whimper. And I, well, I was 40 minutes away! Completely unable to give in to the itch in my arms to give him an all-the-way-around-hug. They said that they were able to get his bleeding nose under control, but the bump on his head was turning purple. I asked to talk to him on the phone and he doesn't answer me. I can hear a sniffle and then a jagged cry. He finally says, "Mama, I want you."

So, I'm SPEEDING through traffic yelling at the stupid Lexus who cuts me off on the Tollway and then proceeds to stay in my way almost the entire trip north. Then I hit every red light that has been put up in our town, the 2nd fastest growing city in America. Yes, Internet, that's a lot of red lights. I finally make it and run in to see Sir Toots. He's standing at the sink with his favorite teacher and I prepare myself. I must be calm for him so he doesn't know how bad it is. He turns to look at me and you really won't believe this, but he's laughing up a storm! Laughing! I have spent the last 33 minutes imagining every possible horrible thing that could be wrong with his brain and I've called his pediatrician to find out if it's possible to have a broken nose at four. My andrenaline died right there on the spot and I collapsed into a tiny chair and pulled him onto my lap.

So proud! oh, he's so proud of his injury. Ain't it cool that my nose is red and is still bleeding a bit. I AM MAN!

So, I take him to see Dr. Newton anyway, because I know that we will both feel better afterwards. Sir Toots, with his man crush on the pediatrician, and me, because I know that Dr. Newton will look into his eyes with a shining thingy that I don't have at home and tell me that Sir Toots is shaken but that I should keep him anyway. Daycare said that he was unresponsive for a few minutes after he slammed into the pole and so he was diagnosed with a slight concussion, but nothing serious. He starts to walk out the door and then turns back and says, "I think he'll be fine in the morning. No brain damage because it's a soft tissue injury, but sleep with him tonight and wake him every couple of hours just to make sure."

Very calmly, as if this comment shouldn't cause me alarm. Me? Nah, I don't worry about stuff when I'm told it will be fine. Can you feel the sarcasm across the airwaves? Hubba Hubba went to the book fair with Sweet Center and then tucked Sir Toots into bed after they came back. I slept with him tucked under my chin until he got irritated and moved to the foot of our bed.

The good news is that this morning he WAS fine and anxious to get back to his friends. As for me, I'm exhausted. I think I used up my annual supply of adrenaline.