After the typically tragic bout of crying there was initially no sign of physical damage to his forehead. I went back to my latest obsession, iPad Scrabble, and my freaky score of 131 for "adjudge".But then, bam ! A super-bruise started to appear, in the form of a cartoon-type swelling. We rushed over to the local pharmacy but they had no view other than to suggest we go to a nerby hospital. So into a taxi we jumped and, of course, straight into a traffic jam. But we did arrive without too much delay at our destination.
There was no-one at reception so our only aid was a somnolent-looking security guard. While showing barely any signs of life, he somehow managed to direct us to a doctor. She had a quick look at the bruise and told us to register at reception.
The good, if not miraculous news, was that we were the only people in this emergency out-patients section. We were seen by the same young woman doctor just a few moments later. She had pretty decent English and had lived in Cambridge for part of her childhood - both parents were doctors with placements at Addenbrookes hospital.
She did the usual checks on Sam, which he didn't like one bit, and pronounced him absolutely fine ... probably. We just needed to keep an eye on him and make sure he continued to show his usual loud signs of life. After my frayed nerves yesterday, with more bellowing from his TARDIS-like lungs than I could cope with, I smiled at the irony of now desiring nothing more than to hear those same ear-splitting sounds. On leaving, I asked the doctor why it was so quiet, especially for a Saturday, and she replied that on rainy days the number of out-patients drops dramatically.
So there's another reason to rejoice in this newly drizzly Sao Paulo. Sam's bump seemed to diminish pretty quickly; here's hoping it was just nature doing her thing and springing into action to protect the delicate tissue of his still soft skull.
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