Scary phone calls

The phone rang around midday yesterday; it was Jack's daycare. "We've had a little crisis, not a big crisis," said Mary, the director. As I freaked out, she explained that Jack had fallen on the playground and hit the back of his head, and she described the wound as a "puncture." This of course did not have me freaking out any less, and she hadn't even gotten to the part about the blood.

"He didn't even cry, and was walking around afterward, but after we cleaned up the blood he seemed kind of sleepy. Now, it's near his naptime, so maybe he was just tired, but we want to make sure it's not a concussion." I said, we'd be right there, hung up, called the doctor, frantically told them the story, wanted to get him in for an appointment, and they said, well, what we have people do is go and get their child, and then call us from there, because sometimes what people hear from the daycare isn't 100 percent accurate. So go get him, and then call us."

I called Emily's office, because she's about 5 minutes away from Jack's daycare, and got voicemail. Called her cell, got her, and she said she was on a conference call and could she call me back? I said Jack fell at school and one of us had to go get him. She said Okay! Bye! and presumably got off the conference call in seconds flat. And then we talked again as she headed over. I left out the word "punctured." I asked her to call me with the details and said I'd meet her at the doctor.

The next 10 minutes really were the longest of my life. I paced, I fretted, I looked daggers at the phone, I lamented the fact that Jack cried when I dropped him off that morning, and hugged my legs - it happens sometimes after a long weekend, which he'd just had with us. I ran through scores of worst-case scenarios. I tried to will the phone to ring. I called Emily and left a message.

Finally she called. Jack was fine, normal, happy. Just a cut on the back of his head, probably a rock. She'd called the doctor from there and they'd told her that we should keep an eye on him and let them know if any problems. Last night Emily brought Jack home, he was happy and smiling, I think he bonked me on the forehead at some point with one of his toys, and then he went to sleep, ultimately, and we all had a good night.

And I vowed to go out with him Thursday to get him a new pair of sneakers, ones that he maybe won't be as apt to fall in.

I don't get scared a lot. I usually just figure things will be okay and work themselves out, or at least I try to believe that stuff. But I guess there's not much scarier than a scary phone call from somebody watching your child.

I'm going to go listen to him sleeping.