In Stitches

The story begins with an excited 4 year old. She stands at the end of a long, carpeted hallway in a pair of rubber-soled mary janes. She builds speed toward the drinking fountain, rubber catches carpet, and she goes flying. Her skull hits the corner of a concrete-block wall.

The next chapter includes a hysterical grandma, a blood-spattered Aunt Andrea, and a Daddy who scooped everyone up and got us to the ER in minutes. I had time to pack a few blankets and stuffed animals, and off we went.



We learned that the cut was through the skin and muscle. We held out for a plastic surgeon...she's a girly-girl, and it's her face, after all.

Dr. Hicks arrived around 11pm, not thrilled to be called in from his slumber. He silently worked on her for almost an hour with Derek close by to hold Ella's hand. (I was pacing the halls and wiping tears.) At the point Derek saw her cranium, he broke into a sweat and asked for a chair. Ella was tearful but more brave than either of us expected.



The story ends with Dr. Hicks finishing the outer layer of stitches around midnight. Ella's sweetness had completely won him over. As he wiped away the iodine, the ER nurses and I heard a tiny sound. It was Ella, whistling a Christmas carol from under the surgical barrier blanket.