On Saturday, I got the fright of my life.
I came home from the markets to find Anthony unconscious in the backyard; face-down in the mud.
Despite prodding, poking and yelling at him, I couldn't get a response, so I called an ambulance.
In the meantime my lovely neighbour, who is a nurse, came over and was doing the 'talk to me, move a finger if you can hear me' sort of thing, and generally reassuring me.
My parents also turned up, and went about looking after Ollie.
By the time the ambulance had arrived (about 10 minutes later), and moved Anthony into it (with the help of another paramedic team - two bloody ambulances outside my house! - 30 minutes or so later), he was still unconscious.
He kind of came to in the ambulance, but couldn't remember anything. It was another hour or so in the emergency ward before he started making any sense at all, but he was still sleepy.
Finally, after 5 hours, a CT scan and a lots of worried calls and messages from our family, I was able to take him home with a pretty nasty concussion.
It turned out that he had banged his head pretty hard on the monkey bars we have out in the backyard (we have a pretty amazing playground out there).
So, he was OK. A bit of a headache, but OK. But I've gotta tell you, I was a little freaked! It brought up a lot of memories, and was an extra worry I didn't need. But I guess it wasn't his fault.
But I'll tell you this, I don't need any more of those kinds of tests thank you very much! That's it! I think I've proved my worth now. Looking forward to calm times ahead...