Trapped hand

Today the girl got her hand trapped between the bathroom door and the doorframe. I'm not sure how she did it, as it I was looking away the exact moment it happened. But she managed to find the one spot where she could get her fingers through, but opening the door more would crush them more and closing it would also crush them more.

She calls me out of my distraction by crying Help!. She's got four of the fingers of her left hand stuck past the first knuckle. Her pinky is small enough to be free to move, but the other three won't go past the knuckle. I'm pretty sure they'd started to swell a little. A bit of wiggling the door just makes her scream louder. I call for L to help and we just take turns, one of us holding the girl and the other trying the door, trying to push the fingers back through, or covering them with oil, soap, water or whatever else which'll make them more slippery (I'm pretty sure the oil and soap cancelled each other out).

Nothing works, and the doors won't unscrew from the wall without opening fully. L goes to see if the neighbours have a crowbar while I consider calling 999. The downstairs neighbours add some more consolation and distraction for the girl. L, while one of the neighbour's is fetching tools, gets some tin snips. I think there's nothing those will cut through, but she just sticks them in the space between the door and frame and twists, just enough to bend the wood and free the girl's hand. Just in time for the neighbour's toolbox to arrive.

She comes out, right into my arms and I hold her till L gives her a consoling breast feed. I feel her hand in case anything is broken, but she does not seem to feel any pain. L asks her to make zero and five, that is making a fist and extending her fingers. Which she does without complaint. So it seems she came out unscathed.
For the next hour she would repeat Hand stuck. Door. quite a bit. And any time she got her hand near a doorframe, L and I would lunge at her and grab her away.

Another scary childhood milestone. This one without permanent damage, though I do hope it means she won't do it again.

Ouch

Yesterday was my second hospital visit with the girl. But this time it was me that was injured.

Our flat is in a bit of a state. Boxes moved from the nursery where L started, but did not complete, putting up rails and things (drill bit broke in the middle). Luggage still unpacked from our recent seaside holiday. All together it makes for a cluttered place not completely safe for a little girl. Which means we have to keep an eye on her when she's playing to make sure she does not stray or play with inappropriate things.

I was in the office working on the PC trying to psyche myself up for doing a bit of taxes. The girl was in the next room with L occasionally running from one room to the other. At one point L said she's heading for the stairs!

I leapt off my box toward the door to catch her, with visions of her tumbling down the stairs and ending up in A&E again.

Instead, I put my foot down on the luggage which slipped from under me, sending me falling to the floor. I came down hard on my left arm and right knee. And slightly less hard on the rest of my limbs. I just lay there on the floor while L spirited the girl away to her cot and fetched some ice for my injuries. Two year old broadbeans, to be specific.

A bit of I think I broke my arm, followed quickly by a Actually no, I'm fine, I'm fine, followed a few minutes later by a OMFG OW! and I declare we're going to UCH for a bit of X-rays before in the influx of Saturday night injuries start.

This time we get public transport to hospital. L's got the girl all bundled up in the sling, and I'm limping alongside them. It was slow, but all was fine until the queue at A&E. I arrived at the magical time where there was a queue, but appear to have been the last person top show for for at least half an hour. I assume I came at the cutoff time after which people should sleep on their injuries rather than face the Saturday night crowd.

When I finally go the the head of the queue I could barely stand. Which meshed well with the receptionist who had reached the end of her shift and could barely think.

Who is your next of kin?

My wife over there [I point to L who is walking the girl around the room].

Okay. Did you come with anyone today?

[Long awkward pause] Yes.    My wife.    Over there.

Oh, you're married now? Congratulations.

[and so on]

I got seen by a doctor who ruled out a broken elbow, but decided my knee needed X-raying. They gave me a handful of painkillers and sent me to the X-ray queue. 45 minutes later a new doctor sees me and says nothing is broken in my ever-swelling knee, but my arm might not be not-broken after all, and it now needs X-rays. I think Whatever. I'm not planning on having any more kids.

More queuing and waiting, and by now the girl is asleep in the sling in L's arms. The doctor says Nope. Not broken. Keep things elevated, get some rest, but move around. And you're not excused from carrying the baby. – a mixed blessing that.

I get out 3 hours after arriving, starving for some food. It was 11, so we'd pretty much missed any decent restaurant in the area (the main reason I decided we'd go to UCH) and also would miss any decent take-away by the time we got home.

Fortunately the girl sleeps all the way through the trip home and being put in her cot. Meanwhile I make us adults a pasta dinner followed quickly by collapsing in bed.

Not the best end to the day, but it at least was only a few wasted hours followed by random pain and discomfort. So I decided to pretend we just had a bad night out at the pub.

Now we play

Last week I took the girl to a playgroup at the local leisure centre. L had taken her there once before, and this was my turn to take the girl for a bit of early morning public play before heading off to work.

The wee one is still partly on east coast time, so I had to wake her before getting out of the house. I suspect that's why she didn't really seemed to enjoy herself. She spent almost the whole time staring at the other children. Very little excited her. She'd grudgingly accept walking around, playing with balls, or attempting to share with other kids. For the most part she'd just sit and take in the environment.

The play time is about 45 minute long and is for up to 15 age 5 and unders. I think there were about a dozen kinds, mostly between 1 and 2. It was free play on soft platforms and shapes or in a ball pit. Followed by about 10 minutes of singing. Mostly songs I did not know. Or songs I couldn't do the hand motions to (There's a hand gesture for …washed the spider out…?).

I spent most of the time teaching the lass how to safely get off of platforms. She was doing quite well. Until she fell over while I was putting on my shoes at the end. Great. Always fun to be the incompetent parent who has to console his crying child for getting her hurt while he wasn't looking. At least my embarrassment was reduced since most people had left by then.

I was pleasantly surprised the thing wasn't as mothercentric as I was expecting. There were two other fathers there. There was nothing inherent in any of the play or facilities that precluded a father taking their child. The only problem was the mensroom with the changing table was locked and the normal mensroom was a changing room with showers – too wet and dirty to change the girl in. But there was a reasonable changing room upstairs that was clean and free. The only problem was it had no toilet, so I could not EC the girl.

Note to all restroom designers. Always put a toilet in the room with the changing table. It's good to have a clean place to put the baby to reclothe them after they go to the loo.

I'll likely go again. At least a few more times and see if the girl actually takes a liking toward it. I'm sure she'd have fun if she were more awake for it. We'll just have to wait and see.

Yesterday I took the girl to the local park. After her accident the other day, I was very conservative on the play. Don't play there, you'll get sand in your wound, We can't play on that, you might hit your head and reopen your wound. She did enjoy the swing and the seesaw. Though on the seesaw, I was holding on to one leg the whole time. I was no fun at all. I'm hoping the paranoia ends soon.

Falling down

The girl had her first A&E trip on Saturday. A momentary flicker in her stair climbing skills sent her down 3 or 4 steps and headfirst into a bookcase. I was in the nursery at the time when I heard the crash and various screamings. I ran out to find L holding the girl, her face covered with blood.

We took her to the bathroom to clean her up. All I could find were nappy liners to wipe away the blood. I was relieved to find what looked to be a flap of skin was actually the blood soaked on her eyebrow. Then L uncovered the actual wound – a 2cm vertical gash in the middle of her forehead. Again, a bit of a relief since a cut forehead I could deal with. L didn't see it that way and started to panic more since we clearly had to get to hospital. She suggested we call 999. I hesitated for bit, but the girl seemed to be getting worse.

After that is a blur. I remember talking to someone on the phone, and the girl starting to go into shock and droopy eyed while shaking, I don't recall what order things happened.

L sat on the toilet seat holding the baby's forehead wound shut with her hand, while trying to keep the girl still. I went downstairs to open the front door for the paramedics when they'd come. The doorbell wasn't working and I didn't want to miss them. Then I went back upstairs when I saw the drops of blood all over the floor. I don't know what part of my brain took over, but I used some of the remaining nappy liners to clean up trail of blood from the bookcase to the bathroom.

The paramedics arrived after about 10 minutes.
By this point, her shaking had stopped, and she seemed more alert. Less crying and more wriggling, making it harder to hold the bandage. Fortunately, most of the bleeding had slowed to a mild ooze.

The wee one clearly decided, Oh, company, stopped crying and started charming the paramedics. First thing, they taped a bandage to her head. Then many tests were given, checking this vital and that. The girl was clearly quite interested in what was going on. Playing with the monitors and lights when the let her.

Then they suggested we get shoes and phones and keys and get in the ambulance to go to hospital. I remembered enough to get the nappy bag, the sling and my travel card for when I had to get home afterwards.

I really should have brought a jumper. It got cold in the evening.

On the trip to hospital the wee one calmly played with the blood oxygen monitor, nary a peep. In fact, she'd not cried since the EMTs got to our place. All day, the EMTs and nurses and doctor kept saying how if they did x she would cry. She didn't not when they took her vitals, not when they cleaned the wound, not when they glued it shut. I'm not sure if that means if she's hardcore and can take it, or is just well dispositioned.

After being seen by the triage nurse and having the girl's vitals taken, we sat in the waiting room. There were 4 other children ahead of us. L first used the downtime to go to the washroom and get all the blood off of her. Then she fed the girl. That's when the wee one started crying. Turns out she'd bit her tongue in the fall, and it was still bleeding.

We got seen about 2 hours after the fall. The doctor came in, looked at her and said a nurse would glue her wound together. And rather than explain anything to us, he said we'd be given a So your baby had a headwound pamphlet on the way out.

Ouch!

After he left, a nurse comes in and says she's going to get the glue and stuff to clean her head, and that she wanted to take the child with her. I was a bit shocked that they though that it would be ok for someone I'd never seen before to come in the room and take my child away. I mean she was dressed as a nurse, but anyone could do that.

So I let her take the girl, but followed her, and was relieved when everyone at the nurse station said hello to her as she passed. There was no actual need to take the girl, so I really wonder why the nurse wanted her with while she rifled through the storeroom. Perhaps for a bit of a cuddle? I'm guessing so the baby got used to her before she did potentially painful things to her. I have no idea. But that was the part of the process that disturbed me most.

Anyway, the nurse cleaned her wound and applied the glue. It looked like Krazy Glue. Just a thin clear liquid that dried pretty much instantly. Given how well Krazy Glue bonds skin, I'm not surprised the finally came up a medical equivalent. They say it shouldn't scar, but I'm dubious. The cut looks huge on her forehead. Then again, when I hold my arm next to her and imagine the cut on my arm, I'd probably just put a big plaster on it.

We were out of hospital and back home just over 3 hours past the initial accident. So it all went pretty fast (we took the bus home, and were rather cold from the lack of forethought to bring jumpers). Ever since I've been treating the child very carefully. Avoiding having anything touch her forehead or anything get near her head that she could bump. That's going to be hard. I just want to keep her safe until the cut heals.

We've really got to come up with a better solution for how to get the girl to hospital. I'm not going to buy a car for the occasional emergency journey. A minicab probably wouldn't take someone screaming or bleeding. Maybe something like zip car? The bus is not an option. There's a direct bus to one hospital, bus it's far and takes 50 min. The closest hospital has no good way to get there. It's only served by busses that come every 15-20 minutes. I'm not going to take a wounded child on a bus. What do other people do?