Friday, July 14, 2006

Stitches out

For a change I'm not talking about Craftwerk or Stitch and Bitch.

My poor son had a nasty accident on Tuesday, and has 4 stitches on his forehead.

I have always been terribly phobic about stitches. A few years ago I cut my finger quite badly (incidentally this is the reason we don't eat rotisserie chicken anymore, but I digress...). I was dealing with it. I wrapped my finger in a teatowel and wondered what to do. My husband suggested I might need stitches, at which point I passed out, bashed my head on the floor and had a seizure. I woke up to a curious pizza man at the door, and some ambulance fellows with a stretcher. I was fine actually, and it has made a hell of a good story. I managed to dissuade the doctor at the hospital from stitching the finger, and all is well.

Then I had some babies. I won't elaborate too much, but suffice to say that doctors are fond of a procedure which involves cutting and stitching (and I'm not talking about Caesareans). I managed to deliver both babies and avoided this unpleasant technique.

So when Finn cut his head, and it was very obvious stitches would be necessary, I was a little nervous. And you know what? It was fine. Turns out they give you a local, use and itty-bitty needle, and skinny black thread. Honestly, I had thought it involved a darning needle and dental floss.

And today the stitches come out. I'm having a little therapy to cope with the idea (that sounds like a euphemism for booze if ever I heard one). A little self therapy in my head, along the lines of "it'll be hunky dory, you're strong, Finn is strong, you can have fish and chips for tea after". It seems to be working.


Jack Lambchop said...

Kids, eh? Tsk. This is what happens - they turn four, and suddenly it's all on.

I'm sure you'll both be more than OK - my wee boy has had enough bumps and scrapes to convince me that little people are fairly resilient. And as for your good self, the mantra of takeaways for tea (flavoured with a little bit of wot's good for ya) does wonders.

The Douros said...

True... true... Besides, for boys, stitches are a badge-of-honour kind of thing. (I got two on mine, so I guess this places him two ranks above me)

stephen said...

Argh, if there's one thing I hate but feel I have to do it's maintaining equanimity and being the grownup when these things happen. Chin up. He'll be fine and so will you. Take two pineapple fritters with a glass of port and call me in the morning.

zaq said...

i hope finn is fine.

on the bright side... he'll have a nice scar to show off - that's got to be worth points with his buddies :)


Shannon said...

The anticipation is always worse. Just keep your eye on the good stuff - the fish & chips.

Thanks for the link. My apologies for not adding you on my site sooner.


Carmenzta said...

Martha, I'm glad Finn and you are okay. When my boys were little, they got stitches very frequently, so much so that the doctors and staff at the children's emergency room where we went greeted us by name when we came in!