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It wouldn't be summer without a trip to the ER
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Published: July 12, 2009
Fielding calls from my parents from 700 miles away, I was reassured that Ben was no longer bleeding and wasn't in pain. But, they said, the doctor wanted to closed the wound, just in case.
Picturing two little stitches, I didn't get too worked up.
When they called back, however, they said not to worry, it was all done, and the doctor had stapled the cut closed.
I wasn't freaked out by the coffee-table-inflicted wound, but those staples had me cringing.
Sure enough, when I finally saw him the next day, there were two, big metal staples in the back of his head.
"Guess what mom? I got a hole in my head and they stapled it shut. I was brave and I didn't cry too much," were some of Ben's first words to me.
My stomach flipped and my heart sank. "My poor baby" was all I could think.
Ben, however, seemed to have won the cool-kid lottery. Everywhere we went, he invited people to check out his staples. Without fail, the other kids thought they were awesome and the moms looked faintly horrified.
Every once in a while he would forget and sit back hard in a chair, bumping the staples on the back of his head and wincing. And we were on ban from the pool while he had them. I could not wait for those things to come out.
The hospital had sent my parents home with a staple remover, which we took to the pediatrican's office. The staples were out in no time and Ben didn't even cry.
As for me, just the sight of the staple remover made me want to shed a few tears. I might have to take a few lessons in being brave from Ben.
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