Rushed home last evening after Maghrib, and left my partner alone in the office, to send Khadijah for her tuition only to be greeted with a frantic phone call from the maid halfway through my journey home. Coming from a drama-queen ("darah banyak, sir...kulitnya terbuka"), I just assumed it was just another normal-part-of-growing-up-boy-thing accident and took my time home.
He was pressing a couple of tissues on to the wound, when he wnet in to the car, and I didn't bother loking because Ib can be quite a drama-king himself. I thought I just brought him to the nearest GP to get a tetanus jab as he had hit a steel bracket in the bathroom after having his bath in a pail under, believe it or not, the wash basin!
When I took a look at the wound upon arrival at the clinic...there was about close to 2 inches of opening at the back of his head...Okay...I was just getting ready to bring him to APSH when the GP told me that they could stitch him up at the clinic. I don't have to elaborate on the ensuing drama. Suffice to say that the clinic registered a low end Richter magnitude scale reading.
I could feel what Ib had to go through and understand why he was screaming, even after local anaesthesia was administered, as almost every inch of both his arms have been poked and jabbed due to at least twice-a-year-hospital-stay since he was a 5 month-old-baby. Of course it broke my heart to see him in agony and pain...Giving him words of encouragement and holding him with tlc was the least I could do....The minute the GP completed the suture, he was already up to his usual mischief...What can I say...boys! He's overjoyed for not having to go to school today and I pray that there will be no more frantic phone calls from the drama queen today!