Monday, November 1, 2010
Dog Bite Trauma
When it happened, it was such a shock. Hugh loves dogs. He is always playing with Bobby, our sheepdog. So Roger thought nothing of asking Hugh to give a leftover bone from the barbecue to Bobby on Saturday. The rest of us were inside, so don't really know what happened. We can only imagine that the dog felt threatened that his food would be taken, and he has bitten Hugh. Being small, it was his face that was bitten. Hugh cried out to me as he stood outside the glass door and I had no idea what was wrong, only that he had blood on his face and was holding the side of his face. He cried out that "Bobby bit me" and I was almost scared to take his hand away form his face not knowing what was there.
I always freak out in medical emergencies. I panic and imagine the worst. I was already calling for someone to phone the hospital and get the car keys before Roger had looked at the wound. Roger is a volunteer ambulance officer so as you would expect he is much calmer than me in a situation where someone is injured. The blood doesn't worry him, and he will investigate instead of imagining the worst. By the time Roger had mopped up the blood and looked closely at Hugh's face I was lying on the floor feeling sick and shocked. But Roger was being a little optimistic when he stated that a couple of steri strips would be all that was required.
Collie is a small country hospital, and so our wait in casualty was brief. I would hate to have been sitting in a large metropolitan hospital for several hours before even being seen by a doctor, which is what happens all too often. The staff were kind, and passed no judgement on the manner of the injury.
I held Hugh's hand while the nurse cleaned the wound, and when the doctor came to investigate. But then I knew I had to take some photos. I snapped away happily while Roger and Hugh waited for the doctor to return, and Hugh was giggling and laughing and not too concerned at all. The Ibuprofen we gave him at home must have dulled the pain. I started photographing the doctor injecting the local anaesthetic, but Hugh moved his head and the wound was bumped and more blood poured out. It took three of us to hold him still while the anaesthetic was injected, and Hugh screamed blue murder. I started to feel a little unsettled. But once the area was numb the doctor could start the sutures, so I got my camera ready again and snapped a few frames. But all the meaty bits visible for the internal stitch were too gruesome and I had to leave the room and sit and watch the waiting room carpet for a while. Before long Hugh had seven stitches holding the wound closed, and a nice white patch over his temple, and a bravery certificate signed by the nurse.
We stopped at the deli for a drink and an icecream befor eheding home, and when Hugh got out of the car at home he got on his bike and acted like everything was normal.
at 11:33 AM