Gashed Up- The Final Chapter

I have promised to end this saga soon, and this is it.  The final post has now arrived, so all you dotting grandparents of Christian may finally rest easy.  So, to pick up where I left off...

You should realize, that when I say, "I leaped out of bed" I am talking about a not very comfortable, little green arm chair thingy, that fold out to a stretcher bed about one and a half feet wide.  I tell you, if you think Christian was the one suffering, you have another thought coming- he was being waited on hand and  foot!

Charli arrived right after breakfast (not that we got breakfast, what with the pending operation, and all) with all the siblings to say "hi" to Christian, and pandemonium broke out in the room.  Thankfully we were still the sole occupants.  Just before the bedlam arrived, the surgical doctors all traipsed through to look at and oooh, and aaah, and poke a little at Christians nose.  We were told that a surgery time was not yet known, but, "we will get back to you."

The Nurse came in and gave me a hospital gown- you know, those things that don't close up at the back!  Poor 'ole Christain.  Right after bath time we learned that 10:00 was the most important time of that day.  Charli left the kiddies with Tracy (Perkins), and we sat and waited.  I had to step out briefly, and missed the procession down to the operating theater, but soon found Charl's waiting there.

Two hours.  He was gone two whole hours before we heard the screaming from down the hall, through the "swipe card access" doors.  It didn't take long for the nurse to come and get me to pick him up.  He was screaming "Muuummmama, Muuummmama" but it appears that Daddy would do.

Within an hour of coming out of Recovery, our little bruiser was playing football in the ward, acting like nothing was wrong.  He did finally get to eat though!  Yay!  Everything was great, we were just waiting for the release, then we were going home.

Surprise!  "Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, we think it is best if Christian spends another night here so we can have him under observation."  I guess that a two year old having his first General anesthetic is not exactly a 'do it and get out' sort of job.  But life goes on.

I tried to convince Charls that I would stay the second night, but she wouldn't hear of it.  No way.  So I vacated the little half bed, and went home for a sleep on our nice big bed (with no nurses waking me up constantly), and left Charli to the pleasure of a 'great nights sleep,'

Well, the story pretty much is finished.  His recovery has been great, if it weren't for the be red line down one side of his nose, you would never know that anything had happened to him.  Our Christian is a great little trooper!

Thanks for stopping by, I trust you were enlightened about little Christian and his nose duel.  Feel free to stop by now and then,  you don't have to not come just because Christian is now on the mend.

Jim

Gashed Up- The Saga Continued Just A Little Bit More

After being poked and prodded, held down and jabbed, poked and prodded some more, and finally being admitted to the children's Ward, we thought we would have a little relief- some time to relax and let the little man sleep.  Not quite.

As we made our way up the elevator to the sixth floor, we were wondering what was going to happen.  Neither Charli nor myself expected him to actually be admitted to hospital.  Yeah, he nearly cut his nose off, but a full-on stay in hospital (with hospital food)?  Surprise!

Bed nine.  I will never forget bed nine.  There were four beds in the room, two of which were already occupied.  There were four "parents chairs" in the room, four of which were occupied.  My son was place next to a little Aboriginal boy, whose "parents" were taking up two of the said chairs, while the other two were taken up by a little girls daddy and his feet.  This guy didn't even pretend to give up the foot stool chair, but wouldn't look at me either!

After admission, Charli and I decided that it would be best if she went and relieved our baby sitters (thanks Chris and Tracy), and get the rest of the little clan sorted and fed, and bedded down.  This was not an easy thing for her to do- leave her injured little man.

Within about an hour of being admitted, the little Aboriginal boy next to us was relocated.  Yay! Chairs, space, quiet, all in one go.  We found out later that he had been shifted to the infectious diseases part of the Ward.  Not so cool.  Within another hour of that, the girl across the room was discharged, leaving us with a four bed room all to ourselves!

Dinner that night was party pies.  Christian got two, I got two, but the rest of the food wasn't really all that edible, so he started right in on the custard and jelly.  I, on the other hand, waited until my dear wife arrived with McDonald's.

Christian went to sleep very soon after dinner was finished, and was sleeping fitfully, when Darren and Tracy Christie arrived to see how things were getting on.  (We were preparing to enjoy a beautiful BBQ lunch at their house when the accident occurred.)  They got past the nurses by telling them he was my adopted brother (which is true! we are both Christians, therefore, brothers), and it was good to have them stop by.

It felt like every hour, but I'm sure it wasn't, that the nurse came by to check his vitals, administer his antibiotics, and generally wake him up.  Each time the curtain whipped back, I leapt out of bed to hold his hand and comfort him.  Inevitably, I would end up laying in his bed for about twenty or thirty minutes after each round.

This is the Third installment of the story, and in order to not have too long a blog, I have decided to stop there for now.  We are nearly at the end, and I promise that the final chapter will be written with the next post.  I hope you are enjoying reading the drama that has unfolded in our lives, and trust you will continue to pray for Christians healing.

Jim

Gashed Up- The Saga Continued

At the end of my last post, I promised that I would share the remainder of the story of my son's fight with a concrete path.  So, read on, and you will find the story- as remembered by me, of course!


As soon as the paramedics arrived and looked at him, they said, "this will be a trip to the hospital!"  Now, this is exactly what I was expecting, however, with three other children, the logistics were a little stretched.  Thankfully, we were amongst a group of people who were fast becoming good friends.  My wife and I decided that I should go with him in the Ambulance, as she would be more able to calm the others, so off we went- the first of my children to take a ride in an ambulance!

As we departed the scene, Christian set up a howling that could wake the dead.  Then, after calming down, we pulled up at traffic lights alongside a silver car that looked just like ours.  Well, the little man was convinced that this particular car was housing him mummy, and would not lie still and quiet for some time.  The trip to hospital took maybe around 10 minutes.  During this time, Christian successfully screamed, slept, lay awake, screamed again, and slept again!  All in a day's work.

Once we reached the hospital, the blood was still flowing.  You know head wounds- even the tiniest cut will bleed, and bleed, and bleed!  So here we are, fresh from a Bar-b-Que at which we hadn't had a chance to eat, probably that was a good thing though, and we got to sit in the Emergency Department for a good long time.

We were not given a bed in Emergency- they were kept for the more serious cases- like drug withdrawal sufferers, and people with seriously screwed up broken stuff- we got to sit in the middle of the corridor where everyone could stop and stare at my little child.  I am almost certain that I could see their mind thinking, "how could you let that happen to your child? you terrible parent!"

The poor little guy hadn't eaten since breakfast, now he was basically fasting.  They wouldn't give him anything to eat right away, in case he needed surgery.  So, we waited, and waited, and waited- you know how emergency departments can be, until finally, a doctor came to see us!  Now, the Doctor was a nice enough guy, but he was not content to just look at the wound, no, he had to poke it, and prod it, and pull apart the two halves of it to look right down inside- not easy to watch. Especially when it's your own child!

Anyway, this concludes part 2 of the continuing saga of my son's accident.  Come back later for what should be one or maybe two final installments.  Thanks for coming by.

Jim