On Wednesday of last week, my mom received a phone call from my frantic teacher saying that I needed to be picked up from school immediately because I fell and needed stitches. Her panic wasn't entirely because of the blood. She has 29 years of classroom experience and she is a mother of a leukemia survivor so she has seen more than her share of blood and gore and blood and more gore. She was hysterical because, by her own admission, she wasn't supervising us boys closely enough. And, as she explained, she knew our game was rough but the accident occurred when some of the other younger children were being dismissed and she couldn't/didn't intervene.
When we moved to the new campus, there was more flexibility for younger children to stay all day. That sounds good but it sure adds an element of chaos and sometimes my mom and I talk about how hard it must be to keep track of children scattering everywhere at noon: some go to the rainbow room, some go for a nap while others go home and then there are some of us who stay in the classroom for an afternoon of academics. How do you not lose children? even one child!
My mom prepared to get me from school . . . telling the teacher that it would take 45 minutes to get there. Just as my mom was getting to school, the teacher called back to say maybe just maybe stitches were not needed.
My chin was cleaned up nicely by the time my mom got there so we decided to spend our stitches money on Lego. Best idea ever and I will take credit for that!
At bedtime, it seemed like maybe I should have had stitches. Since my cut was under my chin, it re-opened often and kept bleeding and weeping. Now, I will probably be left with a gouge of a scar in my chin.
No comments:
Post a Comment