Yeah. And really, I fully expect it to happen at least a half dozen more times this year. But this was the first time it stopped this bad for Bug.
Let me tell ya, folks.... there isn't much out there that is scarier to a Sports Mom than seeing your child go down on the field. And stay there. For over 5 minutes. Not moving. For over 5 minutes. While all the coaches and field medics are hovering over him. Have I mentioned that it was for OVER!FIVE!MINUTES?!?
There I sit (ok.. stand) on the sidelines, anxiously watching out on the field (because I've been warned by both my boys that there is NEVER an acceptable time for Mom to go out there. EVER.) while The Bug lays there, not moving. Coach had gone out there (have I ever mentioned how very glad I am that he has always coached one of our boys?) with the other coaches. He looks over to me on the sidelines, and all he did was shake his head. Now I ask you.. how am I supposed to have interpreted that?!?! Was Bug dead? Paralyzed? Unconscious????? Fortunately, we're still on a team of 9 and 10 year olds, so it made what I did next ~almost~ perfectly acceptable. I went out on the field. (And yes, I was reminded later how I was NOT to do that again. I could just meet the stretcher as it came OFF the field and went on to the ambulance. But I was NEVER, EVER to cross the white chalk sideline again. EVER.)
I went out and stood over Bug, where thankfully he was able to make eye contact with me, proving he was at least conscious and alive. He was laying there, just holding onto his face mask, and not saying much of anything, really. He wasn't talking to anyone else, and his eyes and face color were looking really scary. So I just stood there and asked him to tell me all the details he could remember about what had happened while the medic on the field (who happened to be new, and this was her first game. Welcome to youth sports!) waited for the senior medic to come over from another field across the park. After the senior medic got there, he did some more stuff to check Bug out. Meanwhile, the rest of the team is lined up nearby on the line of scrimmage, waiting to A) find out what happened to Bug, and B) start playing the game again! And out of the corner of my eye, I can see his little teammates watching (and fidgeting), and suddenly I hear,
"Is Bug dead??"
Was it bad that I smiled at this? By this point we knew Bug would be ok. The medic was getting ready to sit him up so we could escort him off the field. Bug walked himself off, and sat on the sidelines. The medic declared that he'd have to sit out the rest of the game, which bummed Bug out greatly. Seriously. He's sitting there, with a probable mild concussion, and all he says is "I'm fine. Really. I can go back in." And while I admire his dedication, and willingness to fulfill his commitments..... he still didn't get back in. Wasn't happening. As we tried explaining in terms Bug would understand..... there was no way we were taking the risk that his brains would start playing pinball in there again!
So at the end of the game, after our team suffered a disappointing loss, Bug was overheard saying,
"Sucks that it was A Lot to Nothing (I can't remember the score. Just that we lost). Bet it would have at least been A Lot to SOMETHING if they'd let me back in."
Welcome to Football Season. Where they get hurt, I worry, and it all boils down to that statement. But that's ok. At least I know he'll be back next week. With a brain that isn't still pinging around in his skull.