My little guy needs me to wrestle him. Okay, we both need each other to wrestle. Like every day.
It’s a form of play between men that I engaged in competitively during middle and high school. Of course, back then it was about fear. In my matches at least, the winner came down to who was less afraid of their opponent. That’s what we were learning in school culture from peers—how to appear less afraid of other people.
With my son, last night, it’s about connection. I am about 160 lbs and he’s about 25 lbs—slightly different weight classes. I could toss him around, but that would be cruel. Instead, I get down on all fours, sometimes lower like a turtle. And wrestle with my hands and forearms.
Our living room floor is hardwood with a very thin carpet. Sometimes, I make him lose his balance by sweeping his leg with my wrist, but I simultaneously cradle his neck and head so he can land softly. This allows him to keep laughing the whole time.
So last night after wrestling, we ended up at the Emergency Room. He bonked his head on the living room floor after riding my back and rolling off in a bonky-head kind of way. We were concerned because over an hour later as he was getting put to sleep, he complained about pain. And he kept pointing to the same spot above his right ear.
My buffoon-father inner critic chimes in, Dude, what were you thinking? You can’t let him get so worked up that he loses his balance. Who cares if it’s fun. It’s not safe!
I take a deep breath. Truly, we don’t know if there’s a problem. But we can play it safe. So I cover his Baby Yoda pajamas with a jacket and pop him into the car. I’m heading to a hospital I’ve never been to before, closer to the city. All I can think is, I hope the parking is easy.
On the way, my son is a joy. He has no complaints about his head. We listen to the Blippi songs with some serious guitar strumming.
But still, there’s a nagging from within, What if it’s one of those shock cases where he seems fine and then suddenly he’s in a coma? And it’s my fault for not protecting him from…
( b r e a t h e )
“Do you know where we’re going?” I ask him.
“We’re going to the hostible,” he replies.
“Right,” I say. “And do you know why?”
“Why?”
“We’re going to have a doctor make sure your head-bonk wasn’t so bad.”
“Yeah,” he says. Like, he agrees and it’s no big deal.
And it turns out, it’s no big deal.
This ER is specifically for kids.
Based on their 10,000+ cases of head injuries in kids, after some non-invasive testing, my son’s chance of a traumatic head injury is 0.05%.
And did you know, nowadays, doctors say don’t worry about kids going to sleep after a head injury? I recall learning how you had to keep someone awake (even at night) because if they had a concussion they could fall into a coma. Apparently, that’s no longer a thing—good to know!
In other words, if it’s just bedtime making them sleepy after they bonk their heads, then let them sleep!
In the end, four different staff members treat my son like a prince. He gets their enthusiasm, a bag of bunny-shaped cookies, and I don’t know if it was his pajamas or if everyone gets this, but he even got a Baby Yoda stuffy!
Bonus: Head Trauma Guide
In case you wrestle with your kids, or let them play freely anywhere without you packing a bag full of bubble wrap, you might appreciate a little guidance. The ER gave me this decision guide to help me understand the process they went through to determine the seriousness of my son’s head injury.
Essentially:
OBSERVE: Is there no change in their behavior and no cracked skull? If not, then go to the next observation questions…
OBSERVE: Is there no vomiting, loss of consciousness, severe headaches, or severity of injury (like a fall from more than 5 feet)? If no, then the risk of traumatic head injury is 0.05%.
Additional Reference: KidsHealth.org, Amy W. Anzilotti, MD; Is It OK for Kids to Sleep After a Possible Concussion?
Now you…
Hit reply to send me an email (I’ll read them all : ) or click the comment icon below to share with the group about a time when you were concerned for your child’s well-being and you leaned on someone to help you navigate the experience.
A few years ago, my kids were being rowdy on the couch and the littler one hit his head on the wall. It didn't seem like a very hard hit, but the top of his head started bleeding. A lot. I tried to clean the blood but it just kept coming. Off to the emergency room! As soon as we arrived, the nurses didn't seem too concerned. They showed us to an examination room and told us to wait. After a while, someone came by and ushered us into an X-ray room, and I was relieved because I wanted reassurance that the skull was okay. He asked "where's the injury?" and when we said "top of his head," he said "hmmm, we don't normally X-ray kids' heads, let me check..." After another few minutes, he came back and said "sorry, wrong patient!" and took us back to the exam room to wait some more. Finally, a nurse came in and simply cleaned my kid's head with a bottle of sterile water, and then a doctor stopped by, took a quick look, and gave us basically the same tips that you got. Turns out it was just a scrape, but the scalp tends to bleed profusely when scraped -- just enough to give parents a fright!
I took a screen shot of the tips! On 2 occasions my son has hit his head hard (lumps and all) at night, and I've been terrified of letting him sleep after. Thanks for sharing and glad he's ok. Also, I just love how kids say "hostible"💖