Way back in January my baby boy started preschool, he was so excited to be with his big brother and in he went without a care in the world. They're confident my kids. I may have cried all morning though.
Exactly a week later, on a Monday morning, I had gone into work on overtime - Monday is usually my day off. I had loads to do hence the overtime so when I had a phonecall from an unsaved mobile number, I ignored my phone and carried on working. This person had tried to contact me twice with no success when the next minute the school rang me, so I ran into the kitchen at work to take the call. Now I have had many a phonecall from that school in the work kitchen to tell me there has been a bumped head. This was one of those phonecalls except it wasn't just a bumped head, Henry had fallen and split his head open, I was told he had a big gash on his head, an ambulance had been called and could I get to school ASAP. Well I flew out of the kitchen, grabbed my stuff and told my team leader I had to go. I felt sick. Any other Monday I could have been with him within two minutes and despite only being fifteen minutes away from him the journey home felt like a life time.
Now I can consider myself to have quite a strong stomach but when I saw him I went white. His uniform and gorgeous blonde hair were soaked in blood but he was in good spirits and smiling away. Luckily I'd got in touch with his dad so they were having a cuddle by the time I got ther. The school explained he was running in the playground, tripped and hit his head on a stepping stone.
Anyway, we cancelled the ambulance which hadn't arrived at this point and took him to A&E ourselves which was a nightmare in itself. It's always a struggle to get a park at the hospital at the best of times but of course people had been shipped to Arrow Park amidst all the Cornavirus stuff that had just started so it was a media circus. We just couldn't get a parking space so I just jumped out of the car with Henry and took him to get seen, passing the camera crew and shouting very passive agrressively about them.
Arrow Park were amazing as per (up the NHS) cleaned him and buttery stitched him up but they asked if I wanted him to see a plastic surgeon, which I did. So the next morning we dropped George off at my mum's and headed for the Early Bird Clinic at Alder Hey where he was checked over by the nicest doctors ever: he was recommended stitches because there was a high chance he would have a very noticeable step in his brow. He was then taken to the day surgery unit where we waited to see an anesthetist who came over and explained the process to us. Shortly after we were briefed I took him down to surgery and there he was given a phone to distract him from having the cannula in his hand but it wasn't numb enough for him and he wouldn't let them do it so they brought out the big guns, the gas! He kicked off big style - I think it was more to do with the fact he couldn't see Peppa Pig on the phone though tbh - and it took three of us to restrain him and keep the mask over his face. The doctor was a babe, reassuring me as my baby fell asleep oin my arms but I'm telling you, nothing prepares you for it. I could feel the tears brewing as he went limp on me but he was asleep so we placed him on the bed. It's horrible because it's not like carrying a sleeping child, I can't really describe it. The tears started flowing as soon as I left the room and I think I cried for half an hour afterwards.
He was in surgery for just over an hour and if I thought time went slow the day before then this was excruciating. When his name was called we headed into recovery where he was asleep but a tired sleep not an "I'm still under" sleep and the nurse accidentally woke him up. It was an accident but it was the worst thing she could have done because he was in the BIGGEST rage I've seen. We were told that it was normal but it doesn't make you feel any better. Nothing could calm him down and he screamed and threw himself round the room trying to escape for the best part of an hour. He still quite disorientated as well but eventually when the nurse was happy he knew what he wanted (which was to go home) she discharged us and he calmed down as soon as we got in the car.
When we got home at lunchtime he got his appetite back after being nil by mouth all day, had a big nap and was back to his normal gorgeous self again. He did so well, I'm still so proud of him, he was just so brave and barely made a fuss at all.
It's been four months now and he has healed really really well, we just apply sunblock to his scar when he goes outside to protect the sensitive skin as it's still healing. It's not affeceted his confidence in anyway either which I'm really pleased about because I wouldn't want him to be scared of doing things he loves.
These kids will be the death of me!
Rachael xo
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