Saturday, September 20, 2008

There's a Kid Bleeding in my Kitchen

Last night Jake came bursting through the door from a bike ride.

"Mom, I think I may have to go to the ER again."

Yep. That matter of factly. No crying, no drama show, nothing. Just blood running down his calf. Apparently this time he was out riding his bike, fell, and the spikes on his pedal met his leg. It's not pretty. It looks like the bike got hungry and ate some of his leg with big spiky teeth.

Suddenly the phone was ringing. It was Jane...Jake's best friend's Mom, who happens to be a doctor.

"Oh hi, it's Jane from down the road...Jake stopped by here and I took a look at his leg. I don't think he'll have to go to the ER but you need to get some steri-strips and close up those more gaping wounds, right?"

Leave it to Jake to stop at his friend's house for an impromptu doctor's visit on the way home. Hey, he actually saved me a trip to the clinic. Bonus!

A quick trip to the corner store for supplies and there I was, playing doctor in the kitchen. Jake didn't even whimper.

"Geez, you're not even flinching," I observed as I placed the last steri strip in place. "You've suddenly become tough?"

"Mom, after having that needle shoved in my hand for freezing, this is nothing." He rolled over and inspected my work.

"You really do know what to do." His fingers ran over the gauze and tape, gingerly touching the more tender parts of his leg.

"With a kid like you, a first aid course should be mandatory."

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