Sunday was one of those glorious New Mexico days — bright, blue skies and a cool breeze to keep the temperature pleasant all day. The day started with the sun peaking over the Sacramento Mountains, just in time for the beginning our of our annual Easter Sunrise Service at Bethel Baptist Church. After two more morning Worship Services celebrating the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, I journeyed home — tired, but excited — for what I thought would be a “normal” Easter afternoon — eating ham and hunting for Easter eggs.
However, our youngest son, Andrew, had other plans for us. As he was coming into eat lunch, he slipped and fell into the side of the house, hitting his head on the edge of one of the bricks. We heard the door slam and the cry, but didn’t realize what had happened until he came into the kitchen with his head bleeding.
Only a small cut, it was deep enough to question whether a simple band-aid would do the trick or whether we needed to think about heading to the Emergency Room for stitches. In my heart of hearts, I knew that part of our Easter Sunday afternoon would be spent at the local hospital, but my wife wanted to have one of her co-workers — who used to be a nurse — take a look at Andrew’s cut.
She drove a few blocks over to have Andrew’s cut diagnosed while I prepared for the inevitable trip to the ER. When you’re hoping to avoid the ER, you want the “get out of here” when you ask, “Do you think this will need stitches?” Unfortunately, Brenda’s co-worker did not give the “get out of here” answer, but instead told here she thought Andrew would need a couple of stitches.
I don’t know if you have ever tried to get a five year-old in the van to drive to the hospital where he knows he will have to get stitches or staples in his head, but I can assure you that it does not make for the most pleasant of Sunday afternoons, Easter or otherwise. However, once we got him to the ER, he seemed to calm down.
By the time that the Physician’s Assistant put ONE staple in his head, Andrew not only didn’t cry, but he didn’t even flinch. He had handled it like a real trooper, probably much better than mom or dad. Three hours after arriving at the Emergency Room of Gerald Champion Regional Medical Center in Alamogordo, NM, we were on our way home to finally hunt Easter eggs.
I’m quite sure that Easter would have been memorable enough without a side trip to the ER, but this will be an Easter to remember. I’m just hoping that we don’t have a repeat next year, but with three “active” (read rowdy) boys, anything is possible. Can I get an AMEN from somebody?