The Rock Star climbed up onto the counter. My back was turned. "Ouch!" He yelped. "I hurt my hand ankle."
"Your what?"
"My hand ankle."
"Your hand doesn't have an ankle," I replied as I turned toward him. I realized that he must have meant his wrist. "Show me where it hurts."
He pointed to his wrist. "Right here. My hand ankle."
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My friend tells a story of her youngest son. He used to hold his breath, waiting to get his way, passing out instead. The paramedics were called not once but twice before a pediatrician assured her that it was okay. We are, after all, fearfully and wonderfully made. Her boy was exercising his will. To the point of passing out. Thankfully, his body was exercising its wonder and, the moment he passed out, he'd take a breath and come to.
Matthew fell and whacked his face this evening. I was a foot away and saw the whole thing. It wasn't very hard at all but it must have hurt because he did the silent cry longer than I've ever witnessed. I scooped him up, gave him a couple quick pats on the back and told him, over and over, to breathe. Finally, just as I expected the huge wail, he made a strange meow sound and went limp in my arms. I looked down. His eyes were closed. Just as I opened my mouth to scream for my husband, he opened his eyes, sighed, and whimpered a little. He sat in my arms for a couple of minutes. I called for Troy, "Matthew just passed out."
"What? Are you sure?" Came the unsteady reply.
"Yeah. He's awake now but I'm pretty sure. He either passed out or he pretended to pass out."
We checked him out. We examined his eyes and his face (a small bruise on his cheek). After a couple minutes of sitting still in my arms he plopped himself back on the carpet and starting running and dancing around the room.
He's fine. Talking. Eating. Drinking. Smiling. Playing. Acting completely okay. But I'd guess he was out for about four seconds.
It's possible that they were the longest four seconds of my life...
Lily smacked her head the other day and did almost the exact thing. I felt like I was going to throw up the rest of the day, even when she was running, laughing, giggling, coloring . . .
ReplyDeleteOh man so scary!!! I've heard that when they are holding their breath blow in their face cause it forces them to take a breath...not sure if it works but it's worth a try!!
ReplyDeleteterrifying!!
ReplyDeleteso scary..... good grief....
ReplyDeletexxx
K.
My oldest, who is 28 now, went through a phase of holding his breath. The Dr. told me to let him hold it , even it it mans letting him pass out. Yep, you guessed it. He started holding it one day, I stayed glued to my seat and let it happen. That was teh LONGEST few minutes ever! He did pass out, and came too immediately, but he NEVER did it again!
ReplyDeleteOh I bet those 4 seconds felt like an eternity! Glad he's ok - poor kid! and hehehe to G's hand ankle ;-)
ReplyDelete