For longer then I can remember, I have carried a small first-aid kit with me wherever I went. It sat in the bottom of my backpack, never used but always available. Occasionally I would take it out and remove wraps and bandages I figured I would never use. Every time I held it in my hand though, I knew it was important to have and I dreamed of the day I would get to tear it open and save someone’s day. That day has finally arrived:

Valentina with her fresh boo boo.
Valentina with her fresh boo boo. I think the is laughing.

The new, walking version of Valentina was moving quickly down a rocky sidewalk at Gulf Coast Town Center. She still has her trips and falls but when it happens at home, it’s no big deal. This time however, the sidewalk took its toll: a scrape on the knee. I wish I could remember if she was even hurt or started crying. My mind raced into medical mode and I didn’t hear a thing. I WAS FINALLY GOING TO WRAP SOMEONE UP!!

Where is my bag?

After years of carrying a backpack with me and being prepared for any emergency, my bag is in the f-ing car. You have got to be kidding me! Now I’m forced to use the dinky plastic box of band-aids my wife insists on keeping in the diaper bag. No matter, I will dazzle everyone with my cool under pressure and perform the best band-aid application.

Fresh band-aid applied. "I've stopped the bleeding!"
Fresh band-aid applied. “I’ve stopped the bleeding!”

…and off they went. Did anyone notice how quickly I assessed the situation, triaged the baby and stopped the bleeding? Nope. Valentina just kept on walking and I was left standing on a sidewalk with a diaper bag, a box of band-aids, and the wrapper from my first “trauma response”.

I took myself to Cold Stone.