Wednesday 2012, the week of Thanksgiving, I got a call at work. “Ollie is bleeding very badly and needs stitches, you need to come home and take us to the hospital.” I worked at Target at the time and it was the start of the holiday season. Not only was I a manager but I was the food manager. I was in the middle of a difficult customer when I got the call, I’m sure my face turned ashen.
Oliver was only a year and a half old, certainly too young to need stitches. I alerted the manager and raced out of the store with only my keys and purse. I have never driven so quickly in my life. I was crying the whole way home completely hysterical and terrified because my baby was hurt and I wasn’t with him. I didn’t even know what had happened.
My husband and Ollie were waiting for me at the door, ready to go. I had a second to kiss Ollie and see the injury before we hopped in the car and raced to the ER. It is a serious struggle to be a one car family. I vaguely remember the ER wait as long considering the blood. Ollie was happy I was there and was content just to be held by me. At one point he even left my lap to play with the crayons and small toys on the child size tables they had.
The room they gave us concerned Ollie more than anything before it. He ran around the room trying to figure it out. We settled him onto the bed by putting on a cartoon and letting him have my phone. I have to say Oliver was a complete dream during most of the ER visit. He was in pain, but did not fuss or cry hardly at all.
The doctor was very understanding and tried gallantly to calm us and take care of Oliver quickly. The nurses were very sweet to Ollie and he liked the extra attention. It still took hours. They recommended that Ollie get put under anesthesia because of his age and inability to keep still. We agreed with the reasoning and allowed it. They prepared us for what it would look like and we held strong while Oliver fought the medication.
The moment that baby boy passed out and they started his stitches I bawled. I stood holding his hand, awkwardly close to the doctor putting in his stitches. Ollie was unearthly still in an unnatural sleep. Although the team was all very proficient it felt like forever. Hours after we arrived we were able to leave to go pick up his prescription.
Ollie was sensitive to the medication and didn’t wake up easily and was groggy the rest of the day, but he was himself the next day. I hardly slept that week because I feared taking my eyes off of him. The culprit for Ollie’s disaster wasn’t some insane or fearless stunt. He tripped over a megablock and hit the corner of his train table. Any kid could have done it but they would have seen the toys on the ground and just where that table was.
We had baby proofed every inch of our home. We had added shiny silver duct tape just before our steps to make the change easier to see. We had removed at least a room full of furniture and belongings to make things safe for him. Every time we thought we understood how he saw some disaster would happen to show us it was still dangerous.
I banished that train table that same day. Ollie was very devastated it was gone. We bought him a plastic soft edge table that year for Christmas to make up for it. Many of our house rules and safety precautions are due to this visit. I don’t ever want to see him like that again.
For more posts regarding Oliver and Disability Awareness Month/Meet The Blind check out the Special Needs Page.