"Oh, oh, Mom, I cut my thumb! Oh, now there is blood, Mom, look," Cole screams while waving his thumb in the air. He spins toward me, and I can see blood bubbling out of a gaping open slice on his left thumb.
I take a deep breath, and calmly grab his thumb. "You're okay, Cole, you're okay," I reassure while thrusting his wound under some cold running water.
"Mom, it's cold, it's cold," he repeats, and I don't take time to explain that I'm hoping to get his thumb a bit numb as the blood washes away.
I just continue repeating, "It's okay, it's okay!" I look over at him, and I can see that he is looking peaked. I turn off the water and grab for paper towels to stop the already gushing thumb. Wrapping the paper towel around his thumb I apply pressure, and yank his hand above his head.
"Mom, I'm feeling lightheaded," he says in between his continuous string of questions and worry.
"I think my thumb is going to fall off. Go look at the knife, you will see how deep it went in if you look at the knife," he continues as I pull him over to the couch to sit down with the injured thumb above his head.
As we sit down, Cedrick, my 3 year old, opens the freezer door and finds an ice pack to give to Cole. Cole and I are snuggled on the couch with his hand still hanging above his head, and he continues to worry...
"Will the doctor put a cast on it?"
"No, Cole. If we have to take you to the doctor, they will use stitches to sew your skin back together."
"SEW? Why would they have to sew it, Mom?"
"They need to close up your cut, and sewing works the best."
"Will they put me to sleep? Will they numb it? Will it hurt?" he fires off thought after thought.
"Cole, you will be okay," I reassure him, and he switches from worry to apology.
"Mom, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have been using the knife like that. I won't do it ever again. That was so dumb."
To Be Continued...