Kate has staples in her head.

No one told me before having kids that a whole new level of stress is born the exact moment your child is born. The last place on earth I want to be is in a doctor’s office with a seriously sick or injured child. The word “worrisome” doesn’t seem to cut it. This is stress down to the molecular level.

Every nerve ending in my body was up at full attention when Kate got two staples pounded into her head last night.

Yeah, that’s right. Two staples, just sitting there, buried into the top of her head. Click-click. Click-click. Happy Easter.

Easter Sunday. Scott and I hit the gym while my parents watched the girls. On the way home, Scott gets a phone call from my dad.

Hey, get here as fast as you can. Kate hit her head. She needs stitches.

Ha! You’re joking.


Hey your dad said Kate hurt her head and she needs stitches. Then he hung up on me.

WHAT? Call him back!

I’m sure he’s joking.

He’s not joking if he hung up on you. That is not his way of joking.

I called my dad back.

What happened?

Kate hit her head on the desk. Hurry up and get here. She’s bleeding.

AH! I floored it. If a police officer tried to pull me over he would just have to follow me with his flashing lights to my parents house. As far as I knew, Kate was bleeding on the brain.

We ran into my parents house. My mom had Kate cradled in her arms. She was holding a wet towel on top of Kate’s head. Kate sees me and starts crying. Emma is curled up in a ball with my dad, terror-stricken. Scott and I examined Kate’s head. There was a large gash on the top. Blood was still oozing out. Her hair was matted and tinged pink. The gash looked deep to me but then again I only looked for two seconds before the waves started turning my stomach. Scott had his face two inches from her wound with a flashlight.

She don’t need no stitches. She’s fine. I played hockey. I can’t even count how many stitches I’ve had. It’s the top of her head. She’ll heal. Who cares if she scars.

Uh, my sister got knocked in the head with a piñata bat when she was little. She never got stitches and now she has a bald spot.

My mom whips out her phone and shows us Jessica’s picture text with her bald spot. Message: Take her to the hospital.

I text my go-to nurse friend, Cierra, asking what we should do. I get a reply saying take her in.

Scott, Emma and I took off with Kate to the Children’s Clinic. There must not have been very many Easter egg hunt injuries because there was no wait at all. Kate got right in. The doctor cleaned her head with some gauze and took a look. Her face grimaced.

Looks about 8 millimeters. Ooooo. Yeah she’s going to need this closed up. Generally with scalp injuries, we use staples.

If I wasn’t already sitting, my knees would have given out. I could feel my face going white. The doctor slowly talked us through what would happen. She assured us that Kate’s wound would be numb and she would only feel the pressure for a quick few seconds.

We waited about 30 minutes for the numbing gel to work. I had to distract myself. I texted our families to keep them up to date. I posted on Facebook that Kate was getting staples in her head and I was trying not to throw up. I watched Max and Ruby on the TV with the girls. The room started to spin.

Oh Scott. I don’t feel good.

Are you kidding me? Don’t freak out in front of the girls. Stop being so dramatic.

Scott. I’m not good at this stuff. I’m not dramatic. I’m dizzy. Ohmygosh. Staples. You’re going to need to hold her when they staple her.

I’ll try but I don’t think she’ll want me.

Two nurses walked in to start the cleaning process. Kate was changed into a gown. One nurse blasted cold water on Kate’s head while the other nurse held her down. Kate cried. I started to taste the Easter candy making its way up my throat. Then the doctor walked in. She asked me to hold Kate in the chair, with Kate facing my chest.

I panicked. My eyes pleaded with Scott.

Do you want to hold her, Scott?


Not going to look. Not going to look. Not going to look.

I gave Kate a bear hug to hold her arms down. I looked away. The nurse stood behind me and wrapped her arms around me and Kate. The nurse was face to face with Kate. She told Kate a story about the Neverland Pirates and mermaids. I hung on her every word, nodding my head that I liked mermaids too.

Click-click. Click-click.

All done! Just two staples. She’ll get them out in 7-10 days. You can wash her hair tomorrow.  Keep an antibiotic ointment on it. Just try not to snag it.

Oh Lord, she said snag. Like a knit sweater. I’m going to need to sit here for a minute. I looked down at Kate’s head.

OH NO. NO! She stapled them like a teacher staples things up on a bulletin board! Flat stapler style. Straight up, staples. Smack on top of her blonde hair and into her skull.

Kate has long stopped the crying. She is her happy self today. And me? You might as well pounded those staples into my head. I am nibbling on dry toast and sipping orange juice trying not to piss off my stomach. I should be eating full meals in 7-10 days when my baby girl doesn’t have two pieces of metal gleaming from her head.

13 thoughts on “Kate has staples in her head.

  1. Yikes, that blows! My youngest had a nice bleeding head wound and they were, thankfully, able to glue it shut. They super glue head wounds now!! I think it was just small enough to allow for that. Staples sounds a bit rough. I can see why momma was/is upset! Your poor parents probably feel bad too!


    1. I don’t think they could have glued hers because it was pretty deep. I wish I had a stomach for injuries. I don’t know how my husband can stay so calm. I wanted to cry. ha


      1. And you’re not alone, my wife FLIPPED out when G$ cracked his head open, which caused the other kids to panic unnecessarily. My 9 year old was crying and I told her see, you DO love your little brother! ha ha. It gave me a nice blog post though as I thought I was going to murder some hospital personnel. At least that part when smoothly for you!


      2. Yeah that part was good. We went to a part of the children’s hospital. They are used to handling kids freaked out moms. Ha


  2. Oh poor girl, and poor Mama! I’m a first aid instructor, but when it comes to my family I am a real weenie. It doesn’t mean you’re a wuss, when it’s your own little girl it’s so different! I hope she is healed up very quickly!

    Oh a similar note, my husband had a piece of metal go through his foot at work and had to have eight stitches. I wouldn’t go near it because the thought of it made me woozy. He’s never going to let me forget about the fact that his first aid certified wife wouldn’t help him wrap his wound!


    1. Thank you! I was not born to work in the medical field. She is not bothered by the staples today. I am. Can’t wait for those things to get out! A piece of metal through his foot? Oh, I would have fainted. I feel your wooziness.


  3. Thanks a lot! I don’t normally get woozy or freaked when I deal with things, but reading yours made me naseous and dizzy, and at work! So glad Kate is ok. So sorry you went through that. I do fine when I’m dealing with an issue with someone I’m not close to, but the second it’s all over, I freak. When it’s someone that I love, watch out, I’ll be the one on the floor! I can’t deal with anything that has to with anyone I love hurting…Just think, it will all be over in a few long days. 🙂


    1. I know. Sorry about that! I can’t even re-read this without feeling butterflies again. I’m not good with my own kids or strangers. A nurse is not my calling in life. Ha. Can’t wait until these things are out!


      1. Ok, you’re going to have to change this soon, every time I get to your page to see what’s new, I get queasy seeing this title…


      2. Yeah, pictures are definitely out! Who knew I could be such a wimp?!? Certainly not me. Not much affects me like this.


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