Two weeks ago, about five minutes before Arran and I were heading out to a friends for the morning I heard Arran fall in the hallway and start crying. It wasn't major crying on the scale of things, just a soft 'I've hurt myself a bit crying'. I was in my bedroom and I called to Arran asking him if was he OK. He replied no, so I asked him to come to me so I could kiss it better. Well he walked into the bedroom holding his hand to his forehead over a deep, gushing wound, with blood pouring down his face. In less then five minutes I had to mentally change gears from going to a friends to getting something on the gash and to the local paediatric emergency centre. Isn't it great how us mums can change gears so quickly!
When we walked into the paediatric centre we were seen right away because Arran's face was covered in blood. They didn't even ask to see our health card or what our names were. We were taken to the treatment area where 2 doctors and 4 nurses fussed over him. They inspected the gash on his forehead, cleaned him up and bandaged it as best they could, while he was screaming with his arms flapping about everywhere. Then they informed us we had to go to Hamad Hospital (the main hospital in the city). So back in the car I went with Arran still crying and drove the 10 minutes to Hamad's emergency section.
We entered the hospital via the women's entrance and went straight to reception where they took one look at Arran, with a big bandage on his head and evidence of the large amount of blood on him and again we were sent straight to the triage area. Though this time I did have to hand over Arran's medical card. Within five minutes we were seen by the triage nurse and then a doctor who decided the would was to deep for him to stitch up and he was going to send us to a surgeon.
15 minutes later Arran was being stitch up by a surgeon who assured me that we was using the finest needle and thread he could to reduce scaring and that he would be doing to layers of stitches, one for the muscle and one for the skin to prevent the scar from being to think and deep.
Arran screamed throughout the procedure, even with local anesthetic. He cycled through his favouite phases when he has to do something he doesn't like. "Leave me alone.", " Get off me.", "I don't like it.", "I want mummy.", and I tired.", which he only uses in extreme circumstances. I just had to sit by the side and listen to all of this which I watch two nurses struggle to hold him down, even after they had swaddled him in a massive sheet. He was still able to get his arms out and try and push the surgeon and nurses off him.
Two weeks on and he is healing well. The scar looks good, not at all raised or lumpy. We are starting to rub bio-oil on it a few times a day and when we get back from Scotland we will go see a plastic surgeon. Since the world doesn't need any more Harry Potters and his current favourite movie is Bolt, we have takereferring to Arran as our own little Bolt.
This is the evening of the day it happened
This is the wound 2 weeks later, while enjoying a hot chocolate at The Pearl.
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