On Friday evening, as I was taking a moment's respite in the lavatory, Lily fell. She didn't just trip and stumble, though, she tripped and fell into the front door frame, hitting the large metal hinge near the floor. It caused a deep, moon-shaped gash in her forehead that began bleeding profusely.

Kevin scooped her up and brought her into the bathroom, where I was -- ahem -- finishing up. He was alarmed, saying, "It's not just a cut, it's bad." He was right, it looked deep, and destined to scar if we didn't get her over to the emergency room asap. Having never done this, we fumbled about, not sure what to grab, or even where to go. After a brief discussion of nearby hospitals, we figured UW Medical Center was the closest.

Half-way there, I realized that Children's Hospital was actually closer, and likely a better choice, for obvious reasons. It occurred to me that the wait time would be shorter, as well.

Once we got there, they processed us immediately, and we started what would be about a 3 1/2 hour visit. Apparently it was a head wound extravaganza on Friday night, as five other kids were also there to have their head injuries treated.

After our initial visit with the nurse to take her vitals, we were shown to a room where we waited for a doctor. The doctor was an intern, so after she surveyed Lily, she had to have the head doc come in to approve her course of action. They determined that the gash was "clean" so using glue would be easier and have a less evident scar once healed. So instead of giving her a shot to prepare her for sutures, they instead put a topical agent on to deaden the spot enough that the glue application wouldn't be so intolerable for Lily.

That whole affair was the worst part. They had to apply the topical agent directly to the gash, so they had to hold her head still while applying the stuff. I was lying across the bed on my elbows, holding Lily's hands and doing the best I could to offer encouraging words. Of course, it all felt very futile as Lily cried and cried. She was so good, though, and didn't move or try to jerk away. She just cried and looked around wildly, like, "WHAT THE HECK?!"

After that, we had to wait for the topical stuff to take effect, which was about 30 minutes. Lily ran around, having recovered from that trauma. Later, when the nurse came back, she ran toward me, anticipating another round of torture. The gluing didn't take nearly as long, and though it was a shortened version of the previous affair as far as the Lily-panicking went, it wasn't as bad.

By this time, it was about 12:30am, and we were all ready for bed. They gave Lily a popsicle, which she's never had before. I tried to demonstrate how to eat it, but instead, she just wanted to hold it, and let it drip over her fingers. I just let her. So all the way home, she sat in her carseat, holding her red popsicle upright, staring at it in the glow of the streetlights.