If you know me in real life or on Facebook, you've heard recently about the amazingly thoughtful thing that the Teenager did for me last week. Solely for me, so that I might not find myself missing football games so much. Uh huh. That expression you're wearing right now? The one that just screams "You are soooo full of crap, kid!"? Yeah. That was the same one I had.
Well, after I got done freaking out over the whole What do you mean, he hurt himself in weights class? You're taking him to the HOSPITAL? In an AMBULANCE? WITHOUT ME???
*sigh* The kid isn't even playing football this season, and he still manages to injure himself.
Long story short (because let's face it....I don't know how much you all know about weightlifting, and I don't really know diddly about weightlifting, so telling you what lifts he was doing just wouldn't make me sound like the super-intelligent woman you all know me to be), the Teenager got hurt in class, they called the paramedics, who made the decision that he would be better served at the local hospital. So they called us, basically telling us what they were doing, and let us know which hospital we could meet them at. Oh, and could they give him something for the pain?
Would you believe we beat the ambulance to the ER? Oh yes we did.
After several hours, many painful x-rays resulting in tears from his eyes that broke my heart into millions of tiny pieces, and multiple forms of pain-relieving narcotics (that incidentally? didn't do a thing for the pain, apparently); we were given the verdict.
Hyper-extended spinal column. Severe lower lumbar strain. Possible slight herniated disk. Wow....not a bad list for doing something he does every day, right? Sheesh. I will tell you that we've pretty much ruled out the herniated disk by now, though... his legs are working just fine.
And I can't even tell you how many times I thanked God that his legs were working at all. Spinal injuries cause things like paralysis. Which would seriously curtail his ability to run track again this year and go to State once again; AND his ability to get around in my kitchen to do the dishes. You know, the important things. 'Cuz I'm a selfless, thoughtful mama that way.
He DID enjoy the wheelchair ride out to the truck when we got to go home, though.
Also, we are going to all ignore the tiny little fact that he asked for Mouse to be kept informed about 523,687,469,841,642,359,895 times that afternoon. This is MY memory space, and I'm still coming to grips with the apparent development of someone more important than I am. Acknowledging that is acknowledging his pending adulthood.
And the hospital did not send home enough narcotics for me to face that one just yet.