Scylla; I’ve read posts of yours regarding your family…You sound like a really good dad.
As for the course of action you took; right on. My childhood traumas were much greater that your kid’s futon experience (I avoided cut foreheads because I was laid up from major surgeries) but I’ve had numerous experiences with sedatives/general anesthesia. Lemme tell you, that’s some scary shit, especially for a baby. As much as she hated the “go for the gusto” approach, I think she’s probably better off for it.
And yeah, if she develops some sort of aversion to things medical, I’m betting she’ll get over it by adolescence. (I wonder if that last bit was a comfort or a harbinger of doom 
)
Scylla’s despatches from the home front are one of the best things about these boards. If ever you wonder, Scyllamate, “will they really find this interesting?” please be assured, yes, they will, and post it.
Can’t get enough, and I speak as a kid who had trips to emergency wards about six times between the ages of seven and ten.
Redboss
I had a couple of trips to the 'mergency room when I was a little tacker. When I was learning to walk, I apparently went headfirst and hard into a wall, which resulted in an bloody forehead wound and a couple of stitches; pulled a tablecloth which resulted in a kettle of near-boiling water tipped onto my face (not to mention the kettle itself), got hit with a soft drink can (more stitches in my head), got belted with an aluminium softball bat (teacher asked me how many fingers he was holding up, I said “green” from memory), got hit in the eye with a rock flung from under a lawnmower…point being, I was a reasonable candidate for hospitaphobia.
I’m not doctor- or hospital-phobic now, mostly because we had a good doctor, who explained everything to me in words I could understand. Also because I had good parents who immediately gave me ice cream and lots of hugs when I got home 
Sounds like you did okay, Scylla.
:::shudder::::
That brings back a lot of memories… I had a nasty dogbite on my mouth at age 3 and I remember being held down, screaming begging my grandmother not to let them (do whatever it was, probably big scary thing!)
I remember watching the doctor, who was standing at the table behind my head, so he was upside down to me, coming at me with what looked like scissors with thread attached…
I’m 30 now and I remember this vividly. I also remember at the end they said I had been a good girl and offered me a lollypop, and I thought “what, are they on crack? I was screaming my head off! I wasn’t a good girl!” (ok I probably didn’t think the thing about crack, but the sentiment was there) and I also remember that I couldn’t get the lollypop into my mouth because it was all swollen.
I hope that your daughter’s recovery is quick. I haven’t had to deal with any bloody emergencies yet as a mom and I’m really really not looking forward to the first one (no!! My baby!!!)