Freaky Friday

After Levi and I finished consuming our dinner, we excused ourselves from the table. As we always do, we headed straight to Logan’s room to check on him. Not quite sure how Levi made it in the bedroom before I did (Oh wait, I’m fat, he’s skinny, I’m big, he’s little. Duh.), but right off the bat, Levi, aka Mr. Investigator, says “Mom, Logan pooped.” Which more times than not, is generally the case. Just not this time.

After retrieving the wipes and tub of Desitin, I made my way over to Logan, thinking I’m getting ready to start poop patrol only to notice it wasn’t poop all over Logan’s legs, arms, hands, and even on his foot. It was blood *PANICK* and too much of it!

I immediately started to clean the blood off his body and searched for the source. As I’m inspecting, I can not find a wound anywhere. That is until Logan gave me a hint. He touched the back of his head and brought back more blood *PANICKIER* on his hand. I HATE head injuries!

I could not believe the amount of blood caked in Logan’s hair. Somewhat relieved it was in fact caked, cause it meant the bleeding had slowed down if not stopped. However, cleaning to get to the injury made me cringe, especially not knowing if I’m making the pain worse by trying to tidy up his hair. UGH!

In the end, he has quite the gouge. I’m making a huge guess here and assuming that he fell backwards into the corner of the armoire, which is now moved into the closet so it will cause no future damage to Logan’s skull. The bleeding, thankfully, had stopped at this point. But the pain….. not so much. He kept touching the back of his head. Hoping the dose of Tylenol helped take the edge off his pain.

What I’m wondering is….. Why the heck didn’t he cry? I know his threshold for pain is ridiculously high, but he didn’t even make ONE peep. Not one lousy peep which scares me near death. I mean, had the injury been more severe, there’s the possibility he could have bled to death. You never know! And here Levi and I are in the kitchen stuffing our faces, oblivious that there is anything wrong with Logan. Judas priest!!!

I despise the feeling of feeling like I can’t do anything without having an incident. Anything as in make or eat dinner, fold clean clothes, empty the dishwasher, check the mail, or even use the bathroom. More times than not, that is always the case, an incident of some nature. Other injuries, other craplosions, other whatever….. It’s always something.