Dexter Visits The ER. Again.

As I have mentioned on occasions prior to this, Dexter is a madman. Last Friday we were at a playground and he was going up the slide (which I have told him repeatedly not to do) and he fell and split his chin open.

Off we went to the emergency room, but not just any emergency room, the ER at Children's Hospital in DC. We learned our lesson to steer clear of regular ERs with children roughly eight years ago. It had something to do with a three day old, an IV, and a student nurse that is lucky I let her live.

Once we finally got there we only had to wait 4 hours before being seen. The people at the hospital were wonderful, but it was extremely traumatic nonetheless. I almost perished. They wrapped my son in a papoose and gave him some sort of topical anesthetic. He screamed and shook his head and stuck his tongue out in an effort to cover his chin with the only thing that was available. He sobbed and I sobbed right along with him. But the thing that nearly did me in was the pleading. "Please stop! Please, no!" And then the nail in the coffin, "Please help me Daddy!" At this point I started to get light-headed and my teeth started chattering, something I do when I am in labor or have a broken femur. She was tying the final knot when he shook his head in such a way that they had to start all over.

He finally was able to calm down a bit with two shots of Novocaine in the chin, me singing in his ear and Jamie holding his head and coaching him.

So Dexter now has five stitches on his chin. He calls it a 'man boo boo'. I had never experienced stitches with either of my brothers nor with my two older sons. Jamie informs me that this will not be my last experience with stitches. I fear that he is right. Dexter isn't four yet, and we've had him in the ER 3 times. The first time was because he kamikazed off of the couch and broke his collarbone. The second time was because his popsicle got stuck to his tongue and left a big blister on his cheek that I thought might be frostbite.

I told him that he needed to be careful with his body because we couldn't buy a new one if he broke it. His response was "My body is crazy." I believe he is right and it may be me that has to get used to it instead of him being more careful.