We made chocolate cookies this morning. When I put Babs down for her nap, there was cookie dough all over her neck and in her hair near the nape of her neck. Really? I thought, and decided I would clean it up later (because I'm that good of a mom).
She was pretty upset when she woke up, because she had blood on her sheets. Yeah, I was pretty upset too. I tried to reassure her, while I started to rack my brain for what she had done that morning that would have produced a head wound. And I realized that the "cookie dough" probably should have been cleaned up earlier. (Of course, then she might have missed her nap, and I'm certainly not a fan of that.)
I put her in front of the TV, found a washcloth, water, and started cleaning her up. And then I found the wound. It was approximately the size of a nickel, with, I believe, a tick in the middle. It was still bleeding. And that's when my brain shut off - or at least the part that thinks clearly and finds myself capable.
First I wanted my husband to be home, NOW. I can take a tick out, but there was just a lot more blood than my last two encounters with ticks, and I was just so tunnel visioned to the fact that my child's head was bleeding! We called the doctor, went immediately in, and she took it out. (She irrigated it with a lot of saline to clean some of the blood, and then it detached itself.) It was really low key, with both doctor and patient very calm and very still. (Not at all like my last experience when my other child found her way to the doctor unexpectedly.) I was so grateful for Babs patience with the whole visit.
I'm not sure I overreacted. But I'm not sure I didn't. I am a capable, smart, resourceful adult. Why do I consistently freak out when my kids' health seems off?
(Luckily, I made cookies this morning, so there was comfort when I got home!)
