I Never Did Pass Out

We had quite an adventure last night.

As Ben was getting into his loft bed, his foot slipped and he fell backwards and hit his head on the radiator.

Now friends, I have always been able to pull it together in their times of need. I can always count on myself to put my squeamishness aside and get my babies the help they need.

But not this time. No sir.

Seeing that amount of blood coming out of my sweet little Ben's head, and hearing the word "radiator" froze me on the spot.

Eric saved the day, grabbing a towel to stop the bleeding, telling me to get him a sweatshirt, and making the obvious decision to go to the hospital. I couldn't have done these things at that moment...I'd lost my marbles.

Eric assured Ben that no, he wasn't going to die. He got us all in the car and even thought to grab an ice pack to add to the blood-soaked towel. He told me to drive (because I clearly couldn't even figure that out on my own) and calmed Ben down with stories the whole way there.

I don't know what happened to my mind. It was completely blank, and I think it was overwhelmed with panic. There was a little voice that kept saying, "heads bleed a lot...this isn't as bad as it looks..."

And it wasn't. It was a clean, straight cut that was put back together with three staples. (And can I just say that seeing someone stapling my little Ben's head together ranks right up there with the top three things I hope never to see again?)

He woke up today SO excited to tell his friends about his adventure and his injury, so he is completely fine.

I, on the other hand, am busy fashioning a permanent helmet for him.