I was tending to a bee sting that occurred on my leg moments before I heard a loud crash coming from the living room area. I hurried around the corner to find the changing table pulled over on top of Max. His face was sandwiched between the table and the tile floor. His arm looked bent into an impossible position. I rushed to move the table off of him and get a closer look at his condition. His shrieking cry told me something was definitely wrong since Max is not one to react to physical pain unless it's serious.
I was relieved to find his injuries were not as bad as I initially thought. He was able to move all limbs and was comforted by hugs and kisses. Then I saw the puncture on his lower lip and that's when I panicked. It was the type of wound that you can see several layers of skin flapping to the side as blood gushes through it. It was so deep that I thought it punctured all the way through to the other side. I applied pressure to the gash while I made calls to several emergency contacts for advice --- all of which did not answer!!! I paced in a few circles when finally I decided that even if I was on the fence about taking him to urgent care, I should just go with my instinct. I would hate to regret something like not taking him.
Olivia called me as I was loading the kids in the car and gave me some reassurance in my decision, followed by a call from my mother in law. Then Kirk returned my call while in route to the doctor. He was alarmed and left work to meet us immediately. I had calmed down by the time we reached the office and I turned around to see how Max was doing. He was content, holding a towel up to his lip. The cut still looked disgustingly deep, but the bleeding had already subsided on its own. I determined that it had not actually punctured through to the inside, as I originally thought. I considered at this point that perhaps I was overreacting. I took him in anyway and it turns out urgent care office does not treat face wounds.
The doctor was nice enough to speak with us in the waiting area and give her recommendation just by taking a quick glance at Max. She was insistent that I need to take him to the ER for 2-3 stitches. However, the conspiracy theorist part of my brain told me she was pulling the "doctor-car-salesman technique" on me. My theory is doctors are all in on some cult, prioritizing a dollar over the well being of their patients!!! Greed runs the world!!! Ha. I'm serious though. It's the same scare tactic they use when selling the flu shot and I find it incredibly annoying. I didn't think stitches were necessary anymore, but the word "infection" was lingering in my mind, along with the thought of the wound being in a significant drool zone.
Anyway, I met Kirk out in the parking lot and relayed the message from the doctor. He checked out Max's face for himself and we both agreed that it was something we could treat at home. We picked up some liquid band-aid along with some ninja turtle band-aids, for the cool effect of course. Max was over it and overall seemed unaffected by the hole in his face. We bandaged him up. And that's the end of this really silly story.
This tops the charts as Max's most "serious" injury. Although he ended up not requiring stitches, I think I'm still slightly traumatized from the event. I guess I'll consider it a warm up to all the future heart attacks, as I imagine it won't be the last time this fearless boy does something like this. I blame the blood for my overreaction. Oh, and in all this commotion I totally forgot about my bee sting, so that's a plus!
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