A Lesson from Big Brother: No More Monkeys Jumping on the Bed

As I write this, on Wednesday afternoon, Merrit has just had his sutures taken out this morning. So, he's fine. In fact, he's doing great considering the episode we had last Friday afternoon and how bad it could have been.

Merrit was playing with two friends last Friday. In fact, I'll let him dictate and I'll just type:

"I was playing games with my friends and I was jumping on the bed. We were trying to jump off the bed and jump on the trap. A house trap. And I fell. And I hurt my head on a really hard stool. I cried and I was getting all sweaty. And I had to go the hospital and get 11 stitches. It hurt a little bit and I got to watch Toy Story. They gave me a dinosaur bandage and I got a juicy berry popsicle. And a teddy bear. That's it. The End."


















I took this picture on Saturday, the day after our trip to the E.R.

I was very thankful to one of our E.R. nurses, who said, "If your child hasn't had stitches by age seven, you're probably being overprotective." Well, I don't know if that's true but it definitely made me feel a little bit better.

And, as if life couldn't get any more weird, the charge nurse in the children's E.R. that afternoon was Curt Warren, the husband of my college roommate. He saw Merrit's file and said, "I know them!" and headed over to check on us and make sure we were taken care of and had everything we needed. Thanks, Curt, for being there!















A close-up. The area looks shiny because of the bacitracin ointment.















Five days later, we went back to Wake Med to have the stitches taken out. Here we are at patient registration. Take one last look at the "string bandaids," as the nurse called them last Friday when she was explaining to Merrit what stitches are and why he needed to have them.













In the waiting room...


















Our nurse takes a look at how Merrit's cut has healed.















And takes his temperature.
















Looking much better. We are just so thankful that he's going to be okay and that it wasn't any worse!













Merrit got to pick out some cool Iron Man stickers. The nurse decided to put some Steri-Strips over the cut to give it extra support because there were still two small places where it was "gapping" just a bit.

This was just such a terrible event. I don't want to take anything away from it being Merrit's trauma, but--Holy Cow!--it was my trauma too. (And for my friend, Ann, whose house we were visiting.)

I am so thankful for what a cool-headed, loving husband I have...he always has such great perspective! When I told him (he was on a layover in Dallas, on his way back from a business trip to L.A.), I was crying and said, "I don't know if I have the constitution for raising these boys!" to which he said, "You're developing it now. This is what it's all about. This will be the cut by which all future cuts will be measured. Now you'll know and you can say, 'Naah, that doesn't need stitches.'"

Also, I have to publicly thank a woman who truly exemplifies what it means to be a "neighbor." Her name is Mimi, and she lives on Ann's street. Just after Merrit had gotten hurt, I was holding a towel to his forehead and Ann and I were trying to figure out what to do...call an ambulance? drive him ourselves? what to do with the other four kids (her three plus Ollie)? take him to urgent care or to the E.R.? She suggested that we call Mimi, who is a critical care nurse. She, thankfully, had the day off from work and her son was at a playdate. God truly "provided" her to be there for us in our moment of crisis. She came in, looked at the cut, agreed that it needed stitches, said that since it wasn't spurting we didn't need to call an ambulance, and then she offered to drive us. What a blessing! What an angel! She drove our car, Ollie stayed behind with Ann, and I sat in the back seat with Merrit, applying pressure to his cut and trying to comfort him. She stayed with us at the E.R. and drove us home later that afternoon.

Mimi, you are precious! Thank you for being willing to help us last week. How can we ever thank you enough? God bless you!!

And, lastly, a note to Ollie. Son, if I EVER catch you jumping on the bed, so help me.............