It’s interesting how panic reflexes work. Your reaction seems fairly typical, for a situation in which you can act. It’s when you can’t act, or you’re done acting, that the emotions catch up and you fall apart. It’s a good thing we’re made that way.

My wife’s much more this way than I am. When Brandon had his knee gashed open, I couldn’t event look at it, because I didn’t _have_ to: his mom was there (and my mom too!), and they took him in to get it fixed. It’s a good thing she’s starting her new EMT job today instead of me. 🙂

It’s interesting how panic reflexes work. Your reaction seems fairly typical, for a situation in which you can act. It’s when you can’t act, or you’re done acting, that the emotions catch up and you fall apart. It’s a good thing we’re made that way.

My wife’s much more this way than I am. When Brandon had his knee gashed open, I couldn’t event look at it, because I didn’t _have_ to: his mom was there (and my mom too!), and they took him in to get it fixed. It’s a good thing she’s starting her new EMT job today instead of me. 🙂

Honestly, as disturbing as it was, it didn’t hold a candle to the prolonged terror over the quads’ pregnancy and birth. That experience seems to have burned out my panic reflexes. When trouble happens, I just see the problem and act to fix it.

Still, I love my kids and can’t just shrug something like this off. It bugs me more after it’s over and I have time to reflect on it than it does at the moment it happens.

Kids are more resilient than adults, which is one reason they bounce back so fast from such things. As I write this, Ken’s playing with Pat and Nick in my office, going at it just as hard as ever. He’s fine, and that makes me fine too.

I’ve had at least 18 stitches in my head and face myself over the years, and more in other parts, not even counting surgeries. As Blaze points out, I have a thick skull, and Ken seems to have inherited that, both for good and bad.

Christian: Best of luck with the birth of your girls. The worrying part is natural, and in some ways it never goes away. As someone once said, having a child is like having your heart walking around outside your body. It’s miraculous and terrifying at the same time. You and your ladies are all in my thoughts, and I’m confident you’ll all be well.

Honestly, as disturbing as it was, it didn’t hold a candle to the prolonged terror over the quads’ pregnancy and birth. That experience seems to have burned out my panic reflexes. When trouble happens, I just see the problem and act to fix it.

Still, I love my kids and can’t just shrug something like this off. It bugs me more after it’s over and I have time to reflect on it than it does at the moment it happens.

Kids are more resilient than adults, which is one reason they bounce back so fast from such things. As I write this, Ken’s playing with Pat and Nick in my office, going at it just as hard as ever. He’s fine, and that makes me fine too.

I’ve had at least 18 stitches in my head and face myself over the years, and more in other parts, not even counting surgeries. As Blaze points out, I have a thick skull, and Ken seems to have inherited that, both for good and bad.

Christian: Best of luck with the birth of your girls. The worrying part is natural, and in some ways it never goes away. As someone once said, having a child is like having your heart walking around outside your body. It’s miraculous and terrifying at the same time. You and your ladies are all in my thoughts, and I’m confident you’ll all be well.