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Cameron's House of Fun

Fatherhood, politics, education, random thoughts (heavy on the random thoughts) and stuff (always stuff).

Friday, March 16, 2007


So we're at home. Lucas is tired, but in a great mood (we'd just bought him some new shoes) and he was celebrating by running with them.

He tripped.

And smashed his face off the coffee table.

There was blood everywhere. His shirt. His face. The floor. His pants. My pants. His hands. My hands. Chris' hands.

We got the bleeding stopped and called InfoSante. While we talked to them I got online and read about wounds etc. My Dad was called and he came by, so we jumped into his car and drove to the CLSC. In about 10 minutes he was examined by a nurse who made some quick calls to see if there was another CLSC that still had a Doc on duty who could do stitches. There wasn't.

So we got back in the car and went to Hopital Ste-Justine. We got registered etc in about 10 minutes. We got called for Triage about 30 - 45 minutes later. He got examined and the damage (most of which we already knew about) was two huge cuts to his lips (on on each side. A really deep on one side and a smaller one that was at the corner of his lips on the other. Additionally he'd jammed one of his baby teeth up into his gums.

We waited about another hour to see a Doc, who examined him and then sent us off to a small OR. She met us there and there was only room for one of us. Chris stayed (which was awful for her) and I went out in the hall with my Dad (a different kind of awful, but awful none the less).

He screamed. He cried. I paced. Chris told him stories about Thomas. And after what seemed like a week or so, but was probably about 45 minutes, he was done.

So a couple of stitches and a bunch of the adhesive strips on one side and some more stitches on the other.

We got home around midnight and he fell asleep after about 10 minutes.

Oh and it would have been Mom's birthday.

And it's Dad's today. We meant to distract him from thinking too much about Mom, but next year I think we'll stick with, I dunno, requiring a trip to IKEA or making him come by the house to help build something.

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At 10:27 a.m., Blogger More Diapers said...

Oh man. Glad to hear everything turned out ok... I'm not looking forward to another trip to the hospital with Hayes, that's for sure. For what it's worth, I put my teeth entirely through my lip when I was 2ish -- and I don't remember a thing about it. I do, however have a nasty scar to prove it. Man, glad it's all ok.

At 8:58 a.m., Blogger JJ Daddy-O said...

Yes, I know how you feel, all my little girls have had visits to the emergency room- the oldest bopped herself on the coffee table (upon which my sister had knocked one of her baby teeth out about 35 years before) when she was about 2 and opened a gash above her eye; Twin #1 fell down and opened a wound above her eye in almost the same place as her sister (hello, Mr. Plastic Surgeon); and yesterday, my wife slammed the car door on Twin #2s fingers (no permanant damage but looks terrble). (much parental guilt there)
When I think about it it just freaks me out. When I watch them run on the sidewalk, I am waiting for them to fall down and bash themsleves.
So I don't think about it.
I trust in 50,000 years of evolution to help them through childhood and medical science to pick up the slack. Otherwise I would never let them leave the house.


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