Monday, April 6, 2009

Eight Lives Left

It has been a scary weekend. I was not ready to write about this on Saturday or Sunday, and I do not intend to make this a diary-type blog, but events shape my thinking so I suppose it is inescapable. Cave Baby is all bandaged up with nasty burns on her ams and torso. As briefly as possible, here is what happened. She pulled a freshly made latte over herself in a cafe. I immediately stuck her under a cold tap but her skin still blistered under her wet clothes. We went to hospital in an ambulance where Cave Baby was plied with pain relief drugs that proved ineffective until morphine was administered (morphine! I can't believe it. I have never had anything remotely as strong as that in 30 years. My poor, poor baby). A couple of hours of waiting later we transferred to a children's hospital with a burns unit (burns unit. Oh my god that sounded so serious when they said it. That was frightening). Cave Baby was high as a kite and therefore happy until a further 3 or 4 hours later they bathed her, rubbing the red exposed blistered skin (poor, poor, poor baby) and applied dressings and bandages.

The burns are only superficial so they will heal quickly and should not scar. However the superficiality makes them more painful as the nerves are intact so each time she has to have the bandages changed, which is every couple of days, it is a rerun of the hellishness of the first day all over again. I wish I could have the burns instead of her. Thankfully they are not large in area so she has been spared from having to stay overnight in hospital, which is one of my have-never-done-it-and-never-want-to things. Will this experience shape me as a parent? I reckon so. We are not even at the baby-proofing stage yet but my lackadaisical attitude to health and safety is going to have to evolve somewhat.

Aside 1: when the children's hospital were considering keeping her in overnight, they checked that she slept in a cot. When I said she slept with me, they were totally fine and said they could get a bed in for us. Way to go NHS.

Aside 2: I had assumed that the tunnel-vision and lack-of-awareness-of-anyone-around-me that I experienced when giving birth to Cave Baby was caused by the gas; however I was totally back in that place when the coffee was spilt. It was obviously due to my body saying, "Right now nothing else matters except dealing with this one thing that is more important than anything else in the world".

5 comments:

Joxy said...

**hugs** What a horrible thing to happen to you and Cave baby. :(

I remember Rye pulling a coffee over him once, but he was wearing a thick fleece and the coffee wasn't that hot (I like a lot of mmilk), I immediately got him under the tap too; but he was fine thankfully - no need for hospital.

It is scary and yeah that tunnel vision thing happens doesn't it, you just got on automatic pilot.

**hugs** forgive yourself hon, accidents do happen.

Joxy

Amanda said...

Oh, Cave Mama....I fear it will probably take longer for you to heal than it will your little one. Kids are totally programed to get into everything they're not supposed to no matter how closely or loosely we watch them, so don't be too hard on yourself.

Launi said...

You poor, poor cave mama. You are good and protective and wise, but sometimes the planet sneaks up on us and forces experiences that we'd rather not have. I believe that pain treated with compassion can create very gentle, empathetic souls. It will be all right.

www.graciousrain.com

Cave Mother said...

Thanks for these kind words. I feel terrible - if I had only had the coffee further away, or she had not been sat on my knee... Today's bandage change was not too bad but the car journeys are nearly as traumatic as the hospital visits. Cave Baby hates the car )-:

Mon said...

omg poor little darling. I would be so hard on myself if this happened to us. I guess that's normal, we are their protectors. But this is also life.

I'm trying to find a balance between protecting her and not becoming paranoid or over-protecting. It's not easy. I tend towards the relaxed end of the scale, but worry it might be too relaxed, sigh.

May she heal quickly. Hugs to you.