So, another trip to A&E last night, seriously feel like we are becoming regulars! Harry this time for a change!
There we all were, early evening, tinkering away. I was running the boys a bath when I heard an almighty scream from down stairs. As a parent, you know the real ones.
I went running downstairs as quick as my poorly knee would allow me, which shockingly wasn’t that fast, could have been beaten by a 93 year old with a walking stick.
Ollie exited the lounge looking somewhat sheepish and looked up at me to simply say it was Harry’s fault.
I got in to the lounge just as Harry was climbing out from behind the sofa, claret everywhere. It was like a scene from a Stephen King movie, I mean the boy was COVERED in blood.
I picked him up and carried him in to the kitchen, not because I was worried about the carpet (it’s already past it), but I needed more light. I instructed Ollie to get Harry a chair to sit on which he did without hesitation. It was only when Ollie came back that he noticed Harry was dripping in blood and he immediately ran upstairs to get Daddy, what good instincts the boy has.
Together we checked his vitals and stopped the bleeding.
Harry has a high pain threshold so for him to be literally screaming that it hurt was not like him at all.
Daddy calmly gave him Calpol and a cuddle whilst I got everything for a trip to to the hospital.
Harry then did the scariest thing ever, he laid down on the floor and said he just needed to sleep! That certainly put the fear of God in us!
Driving to hospital with the windows open, music on and trying to keep Harry awake, but he told me it hurt to talk so I was conflicted.
I carried him in to A&E and got to reception with Harry falling asleep on my shoulder. I tried to stay calm but relayed to the receptionist that this was out of character and Harry had received a rock to the face and we’re talking rock not pebble.
I started to feel Harry stir and then noticed a lovely family, with a boy only slightly older than Harry, all pulling faces at him and waving to help me keep him awake.
A children’s nurse came straight over and explained this was probably just shock and the time of night (19:30 by then) and that it was okay for him to sleep as long as we were able to wake him easily.
The place was already packed, but we managed to find a seat by the far wall and I nestled a very floppy Harry into a Mummy bear hug, gentle on his face.
I’d remembered to pick up a bottle (squash not vodka) to replace the fluids Harry had lost which he guzzled down appreciatively.
Harry started chatting to the lovely people around us, but I had to suggest to him that he didn’t start his story with Ollie kicking him in the head, because it was likely more of a tap and they might think badly of him.
He then shouted hello across the waiting room to the lovely family and continued to pull faces at them all, which progressed in to actually doing “the worm” (a dance move) on the hospital floor as he got better. I explained he might want to be a little less energetic as we’d only just managed to get his nose to stop bleeding and there was still a steady dribble.
The little boy had broken his arm and when it was time for them to go home, Harry actually cried. Such a lovely family, chatting to and taking care of everyone. They’d popped over from Wales for a light weekend which had ended in a breakage.
We finally got seen and Harry got the all clear to go home with a leaflet about how to treat a head wound.
The staff were amazing! So friendly, caring and professional. It was a busy Saturday night in the Summer holidays and they remained calm and took everything in their stride, not letting on how tired, under staffed, under paid they are.
When we got home, Lee tucked us both up in bed and made sure we had everything we needed, running up and down 3 flights of stairs for add ons we requested and letting us know we could sleep safely because he would take care of everything for us.
Harry did us proud! He was a delight! Which says a lot as he’d been a little **** most the day!
This morning over breakfast with the Twinkles I finally got to the bottom of what happened, here’s Ollies version of events:-
“So, Harry was trying to die me and he was down on the floor behind the sofa, so I used my super skills to do a scissor kick and the fairy rock house fell off the window on to his face, because I have all the strength and I’m stronger than my brother” all said with smile on face, in a deep voice (as deep as a 4.5 year old can manage) whilst flexing his muscles.
This was a relief because for a split second I was envisioning the rock scene from Lord of The Flies and that’s a whole other level of counselling and parenting skills needed!
So this is us! Today we’ll make the most of being okay, being together and being a family, especially in mind of what has just happened in Plymouth.
It’s a day to hug your loved ones and remind them how much they mean to you xxx
A cheeky little Twinkle update xxx 