Guy’s Latest Adventure

It was a Thursday night.  I came home from work, exhausted, as I do every Thursday night.  The routine took me over.  Kisses to all, walking over to the computer corner, unpacking it, and setting it up for the weekend.  Let me take a small step back and explain how when we bought the house, we had big plans for a study, with lots of book cases, a desk, a small television set.  Everything a grown man needs in order to complete the sixteen hour workdays…  What we have today is the study, Dorit’s computer, a large TV set hooked to a surround system, an XBox, a DVD player.  In short, everything children need in order to entertain themselves and their friends.  As for me, I moved my laptop to the living room.  I have a small corner with power and a cellular phone recharger.  That’s my study these days.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind that much…

Anyhow, Thursday night, routine, everything seems to be in order.  Suddenly, I hear a yelp, a scream, and I see Guy, our seven year old son, hardly getting himself off the opened dishwasher.  His eyes showed panic, and he was holding his rear end.  I took off his pants and underwear, put him on the sofa on his stomach and what I saw made me say right away: “Dorit, pack whatever you think we need, we’re heading to the Emergency Room”.  I then added “he will need some stitches”.  What I was looking at is a 3 centimeters long gash, on one of his buttocks.

Guy was hysterical at first.  He wasn’t worried about the pain that much.  He was more worried about going to the hospital, and being stitched.  We gave him a pain killer for children and headed to the hospital.  The children ER directed us to the large ER, where a surgeon was already waiting for us.  One look at the gash, and the verdict was out: 2-3 stitches.  Guy became frantic.  He asked my if they were actually going to stitch him up.  I said yes, they must, otherwise, the cut will not heal.  And then frenzy changed into curiosity, and through the tears Guy asked: “you mean like clothes?”.  I laughed and said yes, like clothes, with a needle and thread.

Then he remembered the pain, and went back to whimpering.  I held him throughout our time in the Emergency.  The doctor, a very kind and professional one, prepared the sewing kit, and injected Guy with local anaesthesia.  Once Guy understood that no pain will be inflicted on him, he relaxed completely, and became fully curious.  He wanted to see what was going on.  I discouraged that successfully.  But I couldn’t look away.  The doctor was poking at the wound explaining to us that he wanted to make sure that the muscle was not penetrated.  Luckily, it wasn’t.  Three stitches later, and an anti-Tetanus injection to the upper hand muscle, we were ready to go.  We knew Guy was back when he went to the vending machine and asked for potato chips.  Guy was back.

We went back to the car and drove home.  Guy was exhausted, and frankly, so was I.  What a day.  What an end.

And when everything quieted down, I did what I do always.  Reflection.

Did we do anything wrong to help this home accident happen?  The answer was unequivocally no.  Dinner was over, the dishes were placed in the dishwasher.  It was opened shortly before, and it was opened with reason.  It was an accident.  Guy tripped and fell on it.  It could happen to anyone, and thankfully, gratefully, there was nobody to blame.

I always worry how should one know whether or not to go to seek medical help right away.  And the answer I came up with is as follows.  When you see it, you’d know right away.  Twice I had to take Guy to the ER, and in both times I knew right away it was the right thing to do.  The first time was Urticaria http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Urticaria, a severe allergic reaction to some agent (still unknown).  The second one was on Thursday.  My advice: don’t rush to the ER.  But if your gut feeling tells you to be there, don’t hesitate.

The strong unexplainable (and obviously impossible) need of a parent to take the pain away from a suffering child is extremely strong.  The physical pain I experienced when Guy was in pain is also inexplicable.  The calm I presented while he was frantic, was a requirement by reality, but was very difficult to hold.

And lastly, the overwhelming sense of relief when it was over and Guy was safely sleeping in his bed, the tears that came streaming down my cheeks reliving the incident.  I understood.  This is part of life.  Kids will be kids.  They will get in trouble, and we, the parent, will get them out of trouble.  They will collect enough experience to stay out of trouble as they grow up, an enough experience to get their own children out of trouble when the times comes.

Parents, while it’s impossible to secure the house entirely against accidents, be cautious.  Children show amazing ingenuity when it comes to getting in trouble.  I keep telling my children to be careful every day.  I tell them that and I use a lot of prayer and hope…