All Too Familiar

Look who found himself back in the hospital...

 Yeah...not even a year old and he's already acquired two of these little bracelets. 

On Monday morning Logan was cruising around our ottoman and decided to throw a temper tantrum.  He buckled his knees and fell hitting his chin on the ottoman and sending the only two teeth he has into the bottom of his tongue. 

Your average baby boo-boo.  I picked him up, cuddled him for a bit, and he was good.  I set him down to play while I did some dishes.  A few minutes go by and I look over at him and he had a little blood on his lips and drooling down his hand that was in his mouth.  I check it out and think, "Man, must have got his tongue harder than I thought." 

I wiped off his hand and mouth and went back to business.  Look back up..and more blood.  Wipe again.  And again...and again...and again...and again.  After about 3 hours I decided maybe I should call the doctor.  The nurse calls me back a couple hours later and says there really isn't much I can do about it. We just have to wait it out.  So we wait.  And wait...and wait...and wait.

 The kid acted completely fine all day long.  He just looked AWEFUL.  I put him down for a nap, and when he woke up I went in to find a vampire baby.  With blood red lips and dry blood smeared all over his face.  It was like he got in a fight where I'd hate to see the other guy.  Plus, Logan recently decided spitting was funny.  SO in addition to having to wipe blood of his chin...I was wiping blood off of EVERYTHING in our house because he would spit and it would splatter.  Our house looked like the chain-saw massacre.  (In hind-sight I wish I would have taken some pictures...but in the moment pictures were the last thing on my mind.)

By hour 12 we're still wiping up blood.  Chad called the on-call doctor and he said "Yeah...that's too long.  You'd better take him in.  And you might as well go straight to Primary Children's because odds are they are going to have to sedate him to stitch up his tongue."  Great.  At 10p.m.we found ourselves in the ER. 

They put the bracelet on...and I winced a little.  They hooked him back up to the monitors and I just about lost it.  I never wanted to hear those beeping sounds ever again, let alone before he even had his first birthday.  Memories of the NICU came flooding back.  goo. 

We waited for about an hour and a half in the Suture room and about 5 minutes before the Dr. came in...the bleeding stopped.  On hour 13.  The bleeding stopped.  I was both relieved and slightly annoyed.  Logan was perfectly pleasant during the whole experience.  If I didn't know any better I'd say he'd planned it just cause.

The doc came in...looked at us with this..."Really?  You're wasting my time for this??" kind of look.  And then Logan threw up this bloody pool of spit up.  Gross.  I know.  But it was the proof I needed to validate our trip to the ER. 

Little punk.  So glad it worked out.  I doubt I could have handled watching the methods described to us had we needed to stitch up his tongue.  I really account it all to the priesthood blessing Chad gave Logan when he got home from work.  So grateful to have a worthy priesthood holder in my home.