The White Lily (
thewhitelily) wrote2017-12-12 10:51 am
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Hell's Bells and Buckets of Blood
Last night was... a night.
Was snuggled up with Hubby after all the jobs were done, watching Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (my new favourite Netflix show, highly recommended, awesome female-led cast, and YES a thirties murder mystery set in Australia is every bit as weird for us as it is for anyone international), when I decided to check that the incessantly crying child from next door was not, in fact, our child.
No, of course it's not one of ours, said Hubby. It's dogs howling down the street.
Hmmm, I said, and went out to check. No, turns out it's Mr Three screaming like he's dying. So, what's wrong, Mr Three? Omg. HUBBY!!! (pause) HUBBY, I REALLY NEED YOU RIGHT NOW!
Here is the photo I took to show A&E. Warning for gore. Yes, he is fine.

YES, he is fine. After about ten minutes of panicked attempts to get him to tell us if anything was hurting (he was extremely distressed) and determine the source, we worked out it was a nosebleed. It had slowed down by the time we found him and was mostly over by the time we'd put him through the bath and changed his clothes. We didn't end up making Mr Three's third trip to A&E this year.
Which was a good thing, because once we'd finished putting him back to bed and waving our arms at each other in shocked commiseration and watching the end of our murder mystery because the horror show in our house wasn't the best bedtime viewing, and I was doing a final check before bed... Eldest started throwing up all over the floor.
Fortunately no blood. What a night, eh?
Was snuggled up with Hubby after all the jobs were done, watching Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (my new favourite Netflix show, highly recommended, awesome female-led cast, and YES a thirties murder mystery set in Australia is every bit as weird for us as it is for anyone international), when I decided to check that the incessantly crying child from next door was not, in fact, our child.
No, of course it's not one of ours, said Hubby. It's dogs howling down the street.
Hmmm, I said, and went out to check. No, turns out it's Mr Three screaming like he's dying. So, what's wrong, Mr Three? Omg. HUBBY!!! (pause) HUBBY, I REALLY NEED YOU RIGHT NOW!
Here is the photo I took to show A&E. Warning for gore. Yes, he is fine.

YES, he is fine. After about ten minutes of panicked attempts to get him to tell us if anything was hurting (he was extremely distressed) and determine the source, we worked out it was a nosebleed. It had slowed down by the time we found him and was mostly over by the time we'd put him through the bath and changed his clothes. We didn't end up making Mr Three's third trip to A&E this year.
Which was a good thing, because once we'd finished putting him back to bed and waving our arms at each other in shocked commiseration and watching the end of our murder mystery because the horror show in our house wasn't the best bedtime viewing, and I was doing a final check before bed... Eldest started throwing up all over the floor.
Fortunately no blood. What a night, eh?
no subject
Hopefully Eldest doesn’t have a stomach bug to share...
My goodness, that ranks for evening adventures!
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Eldest seems improved today and no one else has vomited... yet... Fingers crossed!
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I once took some Guides on an overnight camp and one of them had a nosebleed. It turns out it was a regular occurrence, but the parents hadn't thought to put it on the health form. Trying to clear up in a tent with three other Guides already in sleeping bags is not easy, so I just flipped the mat over and told the Guide her mother wouldn't be cross about the blood on her sleeping bag - mentally thinking it served the mother right for not forewarning me.
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I think your response was absolutely fair enough! There’s only so much you can do in a tent in any case, even the mother may have been forced to throw up her hands and call it a loss. I was pretty lucky; it looks like all the blood’s come straight out of everything, including Mr Three’s extra-special security blanket, which was back in service by nap time the next day. Whew, close one!