Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
Up stood all my hairs and my feet they did run,
But Humpty just cried and said, “I hit my head yet again”.
First– E is at the 12 hour mark and remains asymptomatic from his potential concussion after the wall fall. Trust me, I’ve asked him no less than 2 dozen times since this morning, and chased him down with a flashlight to check his pupils.
He’s, “FINE, MOM. Just FINE”. Well, he would be fine, if only I’d let him do all of those E-related activities; run, jump, wrestle followed by jump, run, wrestle.
Second– yes, concussions can be a serious medical condition. I would imagine that concussions from a fall on concrete are decidedly more unpleasant. No, I did not take him to the ER, since 1) he was conscious and crying, and 2) met none of the other criteria for a serious head injury.
Third– my DH has the concussion experience I lack, having had several of the knock-you-out varieties. His stories this evening both reassured and enlightened me. After all, JB didn’t die, and now I have a bit more background on why his memory is so crappy.
Now that I have listed all the disclaimers about why I’m not a shitty mother for opting out of an ER visit–
Poor E. What an unfortunate ending to what had been a pleasant museum trip. If only he hadn’t been trying to bogart all the goldfish crackers from his brother. If only it hadn’t occurred to him to leap from the wall to the trash can, a la Batman.
Lucky E. The kid literally lands on his feet. I think–since there is nary a scratch, bruise, or bump to be found- that he fell feet first, and then tripped the rest of the way down. I saw him fall, but not land.
Keeping a high energy three year old calm and still–but not asleep–was a test of my patience. Z, always game for spending the afternoon on the couch with a few shows, had changed into pajama pants before the front door closed behind me. E, never game for long-term sitting, could be heard jumping on the couch while I was in the bathroom. And the small part of me that is still a bit superstitious wonders if he just won’t have a delayed reaction, which will occur in the middle of Z’s Gold Belt test tomorrow, because that’s what a little brother’s brain would do, right?
What’s your name?
How old are you?
Does your head hurt
Are you tired of me asking you these questions