It was bound to happen eventually...

But neither one of us thought it would happen twice in five days.
Yes, we had to take our 2 year old to the ER for the first time - and then again five days later for another injury completely unrelated to the first one.  I honestly wouldn't be too surprised if the authorities came knocking on our door to ask some questions.  And I've considered buying a bubble....because not only does it totally suck to see my tiny little man in pain - but it causes some serious anxiety for me and hubs.  

First Injury...July 3rd - at my neice Abby's birthday party.
We get through the whole party without a scratch, but as we're cleaning up, Adam slips while climbing stairs to the slide and smacks his head.   Giant cartoon-like welt appears, followed immediately by gnarly black and blue color.  Totally looked like it might burst it was swelling so fast.  He's had some goose-eggs before, but nothing like that.    It was hard not to freak out.   One of the mom's of a kid at the party happened to be a pediatric nurse and looked at it and said "Well, I've seen worse, but that's pretty bad - he definately should be looked at".  So I tried to keep myself calm and my dad and I jumped in the car and hightailed it to the hospital.  I started to panic on the way there because he looked like he was getting sleepy in the car and of course the only thing I could remember about head injuries is not to let the person fall asleep until they are examined....so I think I told my dad about 57 times "don't let him fall asleep!" - and my dad, God bless him, did a great job of keeping me calm and also making sure Adam was looking at him and not passing out on us.
I wish that when things like this happen, you could go the emergency room and be whisked away immediately and deal with all the registration/paperwork crap LATER...because hello?  My kid has a freaking black and blue massive lump attached to his noggin and I'm answering lame questions about my address while you type it into your little computer there?   No, not sitting so well with me as a parent at that point.  Granted, the swelling had already gone down quite a bit - but still!   first trip to the ER!  kinda freaked about the screaming child on my lap!  quit asking me questions that don't matter and send us to someone in scrubs who can tell me my kid is okay!

Anyway, we did the whole registration thing and we sat in the waiting room (which was pretty full being a Saturday on a holiday weekend).  Dad still trying to keep me calm and me just worring incessantly.   FINALLY they call us into triage where a nurse tries to get some oxygen count or something by attaching a little bandaid type thing to Adam's finger.  The screaming that occured when she tried to do that convinced her maybe she should try using a toe instead, so I had to stand up and hold my kid who was trying to squirm out of my grasp (so he could make a run for it) and also about to break some windows with the ear piercing shrieks...all while this nurse is looking bewildered and going "umm, he's going to have to be still before I can get this reading" and I felt like smacking her because really?   can someone look at his HEAD already and stop f''ing around with the stupid bandaid oxygen thing?  Obviously based on the screaming, his oxygen levels were fine.  I was seriously getting frustrated...and poor dad was trying to wipe all the snot off his face and feeling totally helpless.   She finally gets what she wanted and he somewhat calms down until she tells me we have to weigh him...which we did - quickly.  Then we get sent BACK out to the waiting room with a pillowcase full of ice and instructions to hold it on his head.  Ummm yeah....you mean the big black and blue swollen and SORE spot on his head?   yeah, he was TOTALLY gonna let me do that.  And then she has the balls to make the comment "wow, in 20 years I've never had such a tough one...they usually calm down once they realize we're here to help them, but not this guy!"....thanks lady, appreciate that.  Maybe he didn't like your scrubs.   (If I sound sarcastic, it's only because I've had experiences at this particular hospital ER that cause me to be kinda cynical...and snarky...and irritated - plus, it's my kid, you know?  the mama bear in me was in effect).
When we walk out to the waiting room, we see my mom sitting there waiting.  She heard Adam screaming and asked if she could go in but was denied, and she said she had a hard time not gritting her teeth and shouting "but I'm the GRANDMA" - hahahaha - made me chuckle.  Guess the mama bear was in effect for her too.
Adam kinda zoned out on my lap for a bit until they eventually called us back and a doctor came and looked at him (sort of) and said he didn't think we'd need scans or anything and they just wanted to observe him for a while to make sure he was okay.  He actually fell asleep on my lap, which they said we didn't need to be concerned about and pretty much just left me and mom there to chat and watch him sleep and reminisce about all the injuries my brother and I had as kids.

I had to make the dreaded phone call to hubs to tell him where we were and what happened - and he was at work, so I really didn't WANT to call him, but I knew I had to.  He was worried obviously, but at that point it seemed pretty clear that Adam was going to be fine and it was just a giant bonk on the head.  I started to feel lame about bringing him to the ER, especially after he fell asleep and we were able to put ice on it and get the swelling down so much....

but then I had to remind myself that it's better safe then sorry, and it was worth it simply for the peace of mind.  I wish I had a picture of what it looked like right after he fell....OY.  Let's just say my butthole puckered right up looking at my poor kid's head.

So, after he woke from his snooze and hopped off my lap and chattered up a storm, (and seriously looking no worse for wear at ALL, you could barely even see his bump - although I should have taken a side shot)

we were sent home with instructions to wake him up every 2 hours, and keep an eye out for any scary symptoms.  Here he is a few hours after being home...bruise starting to show:

Luckily, we have a guest bed in his room, so it was easier for us to just sleep in there with him instead of being all the way down the hall.   He was totally fine the next morning, still a bit swollen and bruised, but doing okay. 

We dosed him up with tylenol and decided to hit the beach that night for fireworks with friends and family.  Heard quite a few groans of "oooooh, poor adam's head!" because of the big black and blue stripe across his forehead, but he was oblivious and had a great time playing in the sand and watching the fireworks show.

Here he is on day 3...

All in all, a hit to my nerves, but none the worse for wear.  At least there was no blood!

Fast forward to July 7th.   Another birthday party (no more, we're swearing off birthday parties now) for my sister in law this time.  We had an awesome dinner at a Japanese restaurant, sitting at the Tepenyaki table (or however you spell that grill thingamabob).  We get up to leave and my brother grabs Adam to carry him out.  On the way to the car, he and my niece do the swinging game....you know, with the kid between you...1-2-3 swing...kid laughs hysterically...fun for everyone right?  Except that when they stopped, Adam started crying.  Well he's kind of a sensitive kid, so we just figured it was nothing and put him in the car.  Except then hubs noticed he was holding his wrist kinda funny and crying OW and OUCH through major tears.  So we stayed there for a bit trying to calm him down...except he wouldn't and we looked at his hand and his arm trying to see anything wrong, but figured he just may have tweaked it during the swinging game.  We decided to head home instead of going to my parents for presents and cake and see if he would calm down.  He kinda mellowed out in the car, but when I went to get him out of the carseat, he freaked and started crying again.  I put him on my lap and we turned on his favorite show and he calmed down again, we put ice on his arm - but everytime we touched him or moved him, he'd start screaming and saying "ouch".  My gosh you guys, it was agony...just not knowing what to do, but knowing he was in pain.   Eventually we laid him on the bed and took his shirt off to see if there was bruising or anything obvious, but there was nothing.  Adam seriously winced every time we touched him and would start crying again ....so in the end we decided we needed to take him in....AGAIN.  Luckily, this time it was a weekday, and late at night and we walked right in...no waiting, minimal torture with the oxygen thing...and right into a room.  We got Adam comfortable on the bed and he was just lying there, not moving his arm...not wanting us to touch him.

 We were worried about it being broken, or needing surgery...the worst things possible of course - I think our nerves were pretty much shot at that point - both of us could have used a xanax or 12.  But then the doctor came in and we explained what happened and immediately he goes "oh, it's probably a nursemaids elbow"
???
Apparantly, they call it that because the nursemaids from back in the day used to yank the kids around "C'mere you!" style and pull their elbow out of it's socket.  In other words, a dislocated elbow.
So the doc sits down...puts Adam on my lap - bends his arm up while adam shrieks in pain...and BONK - snaps his elbow back into place (another butthole puckering moment in case you were wondering.  your welcome) and the boys stops crying within seconds.  Looks at the doctor with bewilderment.  Hubs and I look at the doctor with bewilderment.  And he goes "we'll check back in 15 minutes, but he's gonna be fine".
So he leaves and Adam starts crawling around on the bed using his arm, pointing at stuff, laughing, smiling. 

Hubs and I just stared at each other like "oh my gosh, he's a different kid".  I swear, I was so relieved I could have cried.  It was awful knowing he was in pain and I couldn't do anything about it.  Totally different from a bonk on the head...this was a "don't-move-me-don't-touch-me" kind of pain.  I hate feeling helpless like that.

After a little while the doctor came back in and smiled and saw how happy and great he was doing and said those are the injuries they hope for because they are easy to fix.  We called my parents and told them what was going on - my poor brother felt terrible - but it was an honest accident.  Could have happened to anyone, especially us since we swing him swung him like that all the time.  The doctor said some kids are just more prone to those kinds of injuries and we just shouldn't do that anymore...or at least until he's five.   I guess five is the magic age...hehehe
Anyhow, again...none the worse for wear - but dude, 2nd visit definately took it's toll on our anxiety level.
Look Joanna, they gave us a doll too!

  

No more kiddo, mmmmkay?  We've filled our ER quota for a while.  I thank the Lord above that both injuries ended up being no big deal.  I know parents go through worse and oh my gosh I can't even imagine.  This parenting stuff can be stressfull!