911... Your Emergency, Please?

Okay, so we didn't actually call 911, but man did I want to!

Last night I learned the hard way that when something happens to your child, your heart stops until you are ASSURED that everything is going to be fine.

Our night had been pretty uneventful and normal up until about 6:30 p.m.  That's when we ventured to Corner High School's grand football stadium to watch cousin Mal Mal graduate, whom we are very proud of!  Jase enjoyed the ceremony, picking out all the airplanes that passed over, distracting everyone around us, and making people snicker.... he's always the life of the party.  

After that, we made the trek UP the hill to my parents' house.  Jase decided that he would run to catch up with Grandmommy, Pop, Cissy and Ross.  BAD IDEA.  Before I could say, "SLOW DOWN!," it happened.  Face first into the gravel.

We heard it crack and new right away it wasn't going to be a pretty sight.  Jason ran to the rescue and scooped Jase up into his arms... for a minute, we panicked.  Jase's eyes rolled back into his head a few times, and all I could think about was calling 911.  

But 3 seconds later, he was back... SCREAMING!  Blood gushing.  Luckily, I'm not a real queasy person.  All I could think about was getting him inside.  After we got him washed off, he was pretty much fine... playing carpet golf with Cissy in the bedroom.

After an hour of trying to decide what to do, I called the doc.  Of course, they said to bring him in to the dreaded Emergency Room.

It was not a very pleasant experience, but the staff was outstanding (as they have been every time we've graced the doors with our presence).  We were taken straight back to a room where we WAITED, and WAITED, and WAITED.  I think that's the worst part... not good for someone with anxiety issues. :)

After the numbing took over, and after 1 1/2 hours of Jase singing his ABC's and Twinkle Twinkle, here they came.  A doctor and a BIG guy with a papoose.

He managed to wrestle Jase into a pretzel hold, swaddle him in a sheet, and then strap him down to a board that was the length of his little body.  I've never seen such and HOPE I DON'T EVER SEE IT AGAIN!  

The whole time, Jase is yelling, "MOMMA.... HELP!!!"  Poor baby.  But I was calm, rubbing his feetsies, and telling him everything was going to be okay.

As soon as they let him up, stitches in tact, he gave me a big hug and said, "Okay."  

He sang all the way home... @ midnight.

Luckily, he's been completely back to normal today... except for his boo-boo.  He's such a big boy and a trooper.  

So that was our CRAZY night in a nutshell.  I'm sure there are many more to come... just hope they don't involve gravel, cuts, blood, papooses, stitches... well, you get the point.

OH, AND...

I MIGHT have left out the part about me being a complete BASKETCASE before we ever made it to the hospital, but hey... I'm a Mommy and I LOVE my baby boy.