a memory from the past-aka my brother could have died

 

Blogger friend Val recently wrote about an injury sustained in childhood by one of her sons, with both sons not wanting to say how it happened.

As a child, I had a similar “say nothing” experience. I was about six, my older sister nine and younger brother either four or five depending on what month this happened.

A little background here, sister is somewhat mentally challenged, brother has epilepsy, most nights having a mild seizure as he fell asleep.

My parents, for some unknown reason had decided to go out for a few hours. At night. Very unusual. I think the reason was a movie, or maybe that’s just what they told us. Either way, we three were left to our own devices, with instructions to not touch the stove and go to bed at 8.30.

They locked the door and we all did our own thing for a while, then brother and me decided we should play Pirates. We needed a ship, so a small square table was turned upside down and to create stormy conditions we rocked that table quite violently while sitting inside it.

At some point, brother’s head made contact with a sharp corner and blood poured forth. Aaargh! What to do?? It was coming from the back of his head, off to one side a bit, so I made him lie face down with his face turned so he could breathe, and pressed a clean hanky to the cut. Uh-oh, we needed more than a hanky.

I sent sister running for a washcloth (we call them flannels) and I pressed that against the cut. It was soon soaked through. Head wounds bleed a LOT! A tea towel was used next, followed by a bath towel which I held pretty firmly and eventually noticed the bleeding had stopped.

Brother’s blond hair was blood stained as much as the towels but the cut was no longer seeping and I decided we should all just go to bed. I righted the table with help from sister, and we both sat with brother as he fell asleep. He seemed to be okay so we agreed nothing should be said.

I put all the towels in the laundry tub (sink) put the plug in and turned on the water to soak them. Once there was enough water, I put myself to bed. We were all sound asleep when the parents got home.

Next morning, nothing was said about the night before and we went about our lives as usual. I know the soaking towels must have been found and brother’s crusted head was clear evidence that something had gone wrong while they were out, but I wasn’t questioned and I don’t think sister was either. She may have been and just didn’t say. Brother also never mentioned it.

I soon put the incident out of my mind, although it pops up now and again and I remember how lucky I was the injury wasn’t more serious.