Last Tuesday (you can tell I've been run down) little bear fell over backwards and hit his head. Poor little mite went limp, his eyes rolled back and for the next five minutes didn't even know who I was. He needed a mummy cuddle, just lay back in my arms and wasn't happy.
Now, as you can gather, I have become quite robust about little bear's bumps, and have always deliberately tried not to seem agitated to him, but this time I decided it was time to go to A&E. He was almost himself after half an hour, just a bit tired, but I wanted to make sure.
Dear heart came out of work and took little bear and I to the hospital. First hurdle - parking. The parking around that area was laid out by Satan in a foul mood. In the end dear heart dropped little bear and I off and went to park the car. I had been through two receptions by the time he managed to park and get back to us.
First reception was depressing. I gave the name, timing, exact symptoms, and little bear was tired, but quietly observing what was going on. Then we were passed on to the Children's A&E. There I again gave name, timing, exact symptoms and confirmed we didn't have a social worker.
Then we had to wait.
We did get as far as a cubicle but a poor little girl came in who had reacted to something and all her face had swollen up, including mouth. Obviously an emergency and little bear was just looking more and more tired. So we went back to the seating area.
I was desperately keeping little bear in his pushchair as the thought of chasing him round the hospital made my blood run cold, but he was not happy. He investigated toys, clutched his teddy and looked more and more tired. Fortunately I knew we would have a long day (he bumped his head at 'movement' after a session with the Speech Therapist) so I had plenty of juice with me and he was able to stuff himself with raisins. He was, however, looking more and more washed out.
Well, they couldn't find the admittance papers, which I think got lost when we left the cubicle. This became clear when dear heart and I decided that little bear was tracking things with his eyes, managed to co-ordinate, work out quite intricate toys and be very clear about his opinions but was now near to collapse with tiredness and he had had nothing apart from raisins for five hours and then it was merely half a ham sandwich (couldn't persuade him to eat more). We decided to leave and they looked at little bear then. And told us he was fine.
It took us half an hour to find the car again.
They told me to keep checking on him every few hours at night, just in case, so I slept on a put up in his room. At 2am little bear wanted to play. I was incredulous, he had been so exhausted, and I certainly was. It was now 24 hours after the bump so I made an executive decision that he was fine and went back to my own bed.
He was in a right state for the next couple of days, not from the bang on the head but just from the effects of an extremely long day.
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