The Time My Husband Was Taken by Ambulance

The other day, we were invited to dinner at the home of a friend from my daughter's nursery school.
We drank and ate a lot, and my daughter played extensively with her friends, so our whole family returned home very satisfied.

Since we had such a great time that day, my husband had consumed quite a bit of alcohol, and thinking there was a possibility he might just fall asleep in the living room, I pulled him into the bedroom around 11:00 PM and he went to sleep safely.

However, in the middle of the night.
I woke up to the sound of thud! thud! thud!

Since having my baby, I've become sensitive to even the slightest noise, so I sleep with earplugs every night, but I could still hear the sound clearly.
Thinking that maybe my husband couldn't sleep and had gone back down to the living room to stay up late, I felt like something was wrong, so I went downstairs. My husband was wiping the floor and said in a calm voice,
"Mochiko, I'm sorry. I got hurt."
"Huh? What?"
I said, unable to grasp the situation.
My husband showed me his forehead, and it was split wide open.
"Huh? What..."
I was even more confused. The wound looked quite deep, and when I asked if he was okay, he said quietly,
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry."
What do you mean 'I'm sorry'? Is he going to die? I felt incredibly anxious inside, but I decided I couldn't afford to lose my composure here, so I asked what happened. My husband seemed to have no memory at all, saying that when he realized it, he was in the living room covered in blood. He said that looking at the bloodstains, he probably fell down the stairs. There was also a mysterious, large gouge in the floor at the bottom of the stairs, and I even wondered if it was a burglar, but the doors were locked securely and there were no signs of a break-in, so we concluded that probably wasn't it. My husband had wiped up the bloodstains on the floor and washed his blood-soaked T-shirt before I even came downstairs, and that calmness was actually scary.
While listening to him and feeling confused, I urged him,

"Anyway, call an ambulance and go to the hospital."
My husband dialed 119 himself, calmly explained the situation, and called an ambulance.

As soon as the paramedics saw the wound on my husband's forehead, they said, "Oh boy."
Then, when they told me that an escort was required to ride in the ambulance, I turned pale.
I couldn't leave the child behind, so I would have to wake up my two-year-old who was sleeping and take her with me.

My daughter, who hadn't napped at our friend's house and had played non-stop, was fast asleep from exhaustion. Wake her up and take her to the hospital in an ambulance?? That would only lead to a living hell. What should we do? As my husband and I hesitated, the paramedics said,
"Let's do some first aid for now," and they started treatment at the entrance.

During that time, I told the paramedics that I had a two-year-old child and it would be difficult for me to accompany him, and they were very sympathetic, saying,
"The ◆◆ Hospital nearby might say it's okay without an escort, so let me check."
They called the hospital. When they got through to the emergency doctor and explained the situation, the doctor confirmed, "We will have to stitch the wound here for now, but I can't stitch it as neatly as a plastic surgeon, is that okay?"
My husband then expressed reluctance and refused, saying,
"It's my face, so I want it stitched reasonably well, so I'll go to the hospital myself another day."
A-are you sane?? The paramedics also seemed to feel like, no, I really think you should go...
"What do you think, ma'am?"
they asked me. Thinking that this stubborn husband of mine wouldn't listen to my opinion anyway, I said,
"Um..."
and trailed off. Then, the doctor, who had likely checked the photo of the affected area sent by the paramedic on the other end of the line, said,
"I can't force you, but looking at that wound, the risk is greater if you wait until after the weekend to go to the hospital in this condition. It is definitely better to come now and get it stitched."
Finally grasping the situation, my husband rode the ambulance to the hospital alone. I have nothing but gratitude for the paramedics and the hospital doctor who were so kind throughout their busy schedules...

After that, I went back to the bedroom and lay down next to my sleeping child, but I couldn't sleep until morning. I slept for only an hour or two, woke up with my child, and did the housework with a head that felt like I had pulled an all-nighter.
My husband apparently had 15 stitches in his face.

I'm glad his life wasn't in danger, but it was a long and quite harrowing day.

My husband dropped a photo of himself covered in bandages into the LINE group of the friend's family we had spent a fun time with the day before, and it eventually ended as a laughing matter.

I was saved by having an environment where I could share it immediately.

That was the kind of weekend it was.