Life is good because we're the tight team o' three, together, stick with us! As Jim has taught Charlie to say.
Jim and I agreed on this via text. We wanted to be quiet as Charlie had dozed off and there are plenty of other noises in the pediatrics ER. Intercom (I had given him that as the day's new vocabulary word), phones ringing, nurses rushing to and from, beeps of machines and kids wailing.
Charlie is very stalwart. He had had his agitation out. After lunch, he had been sitting at a table at school when he swiped things off and hit the back of his head on a wall so he had a large cut right where he got three staples in January. I couldn't really talk much to his teacher for details and suspect a combination of thymic distress, riding humidity, and negotiating feelings about his grandparents' visits (a growing up boy feels differently and complicatedly).
He needed five staples. He napped after being examined and having a numbing cream applied; we has to wait as someone had been in a car accident and the ER was busy. (But it is good to know your case is not the hardest.) The doctor was young, cheery, Indian, with a serious young Middle Eastern student physician accompanying her. They cleaned the cut by shooting water through a tube which was probably the most annoying part as the water dripped from behind down via Charlie's right temple, Charlie let out a whimpering moan, I hurried to catch it with a towel and the student physician hurried to get another one. The doctor worked fast, Jim held Charlie's arm, a 'child specialist' chattily showed him a balloon game on the iPad (great app but not going to get it as it now has associations). The student physician gave Charlie a quiet pat on the back as he and the doctor went out.
When Charlie had the three staples in January, two orderlies were summoned to help him lie still. Not needed this time.
We went home for a bike ride, burrito and a walk and made sure Charlie knew what a great boy he is. He was asleep by 9.30pm.