Mar 27
A Trip to the Hospital
icon4 Mar 27th, 2008 | icon2 Memories |

When I was three I had to go to the hospital to get stitches in my chin. This is perhaps my earliest memory. I had just got out of the bath, and dad was towelling me dry. I can remember slipping over on the wet floor and cracking my chin. Our bathroom floor had lots of small, different coloured tiles. Dad picked me up and was giving the top of my head a rub, thinking that’s where I’d hurt myself. He didn’t notice the blood dripping from the cut in my chin.

Next thing I remember is sitting on mum’s lap in the front seat of the car, driving to the Royal Newcastle Hospital. (Imagine if you saw this now, a kid on someone’s lap in the front seat of a car! How times change.) Mum had put some sort of bandage on my chin and was pressing it down. I don’t recall whether it hurt or if I was crying. I think I was pretty calm as a little kid.

I don’t know what happened when we got to the hospital, but I clearly remember lying on a table and the doctor placing a cloth over my face. The cloth was made of cotton, and I can vividly remember its smell, and how it felt against my skin. My chin was numb of course, but I could feel the tugging of the needle as it went in and out. Afterwards I heard the doctor tell mum that I was a very good little boy.

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