ARE YOU BLEEDING OR DYING? is my signature saying when it comes to kids. The neighborhood kids no longer come to my door to tattle tail because they already KNOW I don't wanna hear it unless someone is bleeding or dying!
Just a few examples would be the time Runnin' Man and Sir-Talks-A-Lot came to my room, Sir-Talks-A-Lot in tears with his hand on the back of his head with blood oozing out. Runnin' Man with this scared look on his face because he was the one that made it happen. I took one look at the cut on the back of his head and said, "I TOLD YOU TO STOP PLAYING IN MY LIVING ROOM! DID YOU BREAK MY TABLE?!?!"
Or how about the time, some may remember, when Runnin' Man fell into a lake. Okay, a pond, in our neighborhood that I didn't know existed. He had water up to his chest. My first instinct was to laugh and say HA HA! THEN I got a little concern, remembering that HE CAN'T SWIM.
Oh and one of my neighbors will also remind me of the time Runnin' Man was riding his bike and somehow ran into the corner of a metal mailbox. I just looked at him and shook my head. Never picking up my pace, as I walked to see if he was gonna need stitched.
Okay, so I don't get worked up over my kids. Boys will be boys are are bound to get hurt. And Miss Missy, well, she better not be a wuss.
But Saturday, was another story.
Sir-Talks-A-Lot had been sick most of last week. He had complaints of stomach pains, but nothing that indicated a virus, you know, no protruding fluids coming from either end of him. He had been sleeping a lot. Had cold symptoms, no big deal.
We were planning on taking a road trip to go to Hubs' cousin's birthday party so Hubs was about to cut the boy's hair. He had been fine, up playing and cleaning his room all morning.
He got up in the chair and a minute or so later I heard Hubs yell Sir-Talks-A-Lot's name. It was the tone of his voice and the bump I heard that sent me flying through the house with my feet barely touching the floor.
My baby was laying on the floor, unconscious. He had passed out and fell forward from the bar stool, hitting the top of his head on the floor.
He wasn't moving, and as Hubs and I both went to grab him off the floor he woke up and leaned in on me as he always does.
"Are you alright? Are you alright?" is all I could keep asking him.
"No." was his response and he lost consciousness again.
Terrified! I kept shaking him and slapping him and I could hear Hubs say several times, "Don't let him fall asleep!" as he dialed 911.
The emergency team arrived by the masses. There were 2 firetrucks, 2 police cars and 1 ambulance outside my house in a matter of minutes.
By the time they arrived, my baby was awake and talking to me. He sat up, I think afraid at the site of all the responders that were standing around him.
I got my first ride in an ambulance. Never expected my first time would be for one of my children.
They ran test, did a CT scan, EKG and blood work. Kids don't just pass out.
We were told that everything was normal, but there was a slight irregularity in the EKG. They wanna look more into his heart and have made him an appointment with a pediatric cardiologist.
Am I a bucket of nerves wondering what the heck could be wrong with my baby? YEAH! Am I glad that he is fine and back at school this week like nothing every happened? Double YEAH!
Kids are resilient and I'm not one to worry about their sniffles, scrapes and bumps, but THIS scare the BEJESUS outta me!