We made it 7 years and 24 days without a trip to the ER, but just all good things must come to an end, yesterday our accident-free record did as well.
Here’s the story:
I was sitting at the computer working on a paper (remember – two weeks left!) and I hear Avery’s friend Ryan come in the house and tell Jermaine something about Avery peeing on the side of the house. Then I hear Jermaine and Ryan exit. All is silent, Jermaine is handling this one. Moments later I hear Avery crying loudly in the kitchen. I am riddled with guilt because I have allowed Avery to pee on the side of the house (hey, we live in the country now and it’s better than tracking dirt in). I’m thinking that Jermaine is taking a real hard line with this peeing issue and is making Avery come in, so he’s crying. So I get up and go in the kitchen to try to negotiate on Avery’s behalf. I’m planning to tell Jermaine that it’s my fault that the boy went outside, I sometimes let him do it, please just let him off with a warning.
I enter the kitchen to find a vastly different scenario. Avery has his head bent over in the sink and Jermaine is thumbing through his hair. There is a fair amount of blood flowing into the sink (mixed with water, it looked like more than it probably was). Apparently Ryan had said that “Avery is bleeding on the side of the house”, not “peeing”. My bad.
As the story goes, Avery and Ryan were riding down a hill with a jump. Ryan didn’t have his helmet with him, so he and Avery were taking turns using Avery’s. Ryan had the helmet on at the time that Avery took his turn down the hill, over the jump, then over the handlebars, then it gets foggy. Not sure if the bike struck him in the head or some part of nature, but he was bleeding and crying.
So we don’t know where the closest hospital is, but I know there is one in Portsmouth and I mapquest directions for Jermaine. Then we realize that we don’t have medical insurance because my job ended two weeks ago and I haven’t gotten my COBRA papers yet. Nice, now we’re those people.
Long story short, Avery received three staples on the top of his head.
I had planned to take him for a hair cut today (his Mohawk is terribly overgrown). Last week he kept putting it off, “not today Mom”, he’d whine…”Okay, but definitely Monday” I acquiesced. Last night before I kissed him off to sleep I said “Now what are we going to do about your hair cut?! If we have to wait 10 days, you’re hair will be a big mess”. He grinned at me, “Hee hee…my plan came together perfectly”.