Well, we aren't.... This past Sunday Tommy had his first game with the Lil Cavs. He has practiced four days a week for the past month and a half. This year he is on the varsity team (age determines this not skill... not that he couldn't be on a varsity team.... but it's safe to say age determined this one).
Woot! Go #68, kick some a*#!
(And in honor of playing for a Catholic school, say a Hail Mary while you're at it...)
Now, there is nothing the Hamlins love more than football season. Our family represents the Bengals (Who Dey!), the Giants, the 49ers, and the Broncos (yes, Dan is back to Denver but if you ask me Peyton ain't no Elway). As you can see not one of us likes the same team so there is always a good chance of a little screaming and yelling at the TV, and sometimes each other (that's right I said he ain't no Elway!)
But as a mother who has painfully sat through countless football, soccer, basketball, hours of swimming, and piano concerts, I can honestly say there is nothing better than watching your own child suck at whatever sport he plays. And when your kids don't suck it's even better and more importantly how they trick you to sign them up for next season.
So back to my story....
It's 4th quarter and Tommy is in on defense. He is something-end...defensive... tight?? And as you can imagine from the title of this blog... he breaks his damn arm.
Why do my children do this to me?
Crying and stumbling off the field, four coaches gather around him and I hear one say, "look there's his mom!" please don't be a broken arm, please don't be a broken arm, please don't be a broken arm is going through my head and when I make it over I see his poor little arm completely bent, as in curved in, sagging in the middle. Shit. I am so glad my entire family shows up for this game because they were so supportive but most importantly I didn't have to retell the entire story, play by play (no pun intended).
This wonderful trauma nurse from Wilson Memorial came over and wrapped his arm up and told us to go straight to Wilson. I politely said "there is no way in hell I am taking him there, we are going to Children's" Geesh... I guess some people just don't care enough about their children to give them the very best. So you know what we did? We got right in the car and drove straight to... Upper Valley Medical Center.... My poor baby was screaming in pain so I told Dan to pull the damn car over right now this child needs medical attention and drugs pronto!
I guess it was "losers go to the ER" day at UMVC because when we walked in that is just what we saw.. We should have gone to Children's.
The people at the front desk were so nice and moved us straight to the top of the list... seriously, they told us that. You know what "top of the list" gets you? An hour for pain meds, with a screaming crying 10 year old to remind you just how slow time can pass.
Usually I pride myself on being a compassionate person but when the doc walked in and apologized for taking so long because someone coded and "I had to save their life" I didn't even blink and thought, "so?..."
Once the IV was in, the world was a better place and I did give a shout out to Jesus that it was only a broken arm and not a Code of any color.
Standing in X-ray with the radiologist I happened to see the pictures scan on her computer screen and said "damn he broke clean through his ulna and radius". She asked if I was a nurse and almost bent over in hysterical laughter. "No I've just seen a few X-ray pics to know"
In case anyone is counting, this is our 6th broken bone. It's as if my boys are going for some kind of record.... Yes they drink milk, yes I watch them, no I wasn't like this as a child, of course Dan was. But in the end boys are just stupid and careless and I only say this because when Tommy broke his foot at the age of 4, I came home to Max (6 years old) telling me that Tommy just didn't make it over the last obstacle... oh and because this is our 6th broken bone.
Long story short and five hours later they put him under to set the bone. And when I say "put under" I mean he was completely fricking awake. Oh there is this medicine they like to use on children because blah, blah, blah... respiratory.. blah, blah, blah.... less risk involved... blah, blah, blah.... He won't remember anything.
Two words. Bull Shit.
He was talking, his eyes were open and he screamed out when she pulled his arm to set the bone. Ummm, that is called "your meds didn't work a-hole" not "put under".
And then I heard, "Is my mom here". I threw some elbows to get in his view, of course I am here baby!
And that is when I knew these meds did indeed work.
Me: Hey Tom, how are you buddy? I am so proud of you, you did great!
Precious Angel: Mom, you have four eyes. Am I levitating? Wow... Mom, you have four eyes. When are they going to start?
Me: What? Tommy it's over, do you remember?
Precious Angel: What?
Me: I said it's over buddy, you are all done!
Precious Angel: What? Wow... The room is spinning. I see two daddy's.
Me: You only have one daddy. Are you ok? How do you feel?
Precious Angel: Is this real life?
Me: Yes this is real life?
Precious Angel: Are you recording this?
Damn, why didn't I think to record this?
Me: Of course not, I would never do that sweetie.
And on and on it went until the meds wore off. And although I didn't record it, I did snap a picture to capture the moment.
You know some people measure the growth of their children on an old door jam, or a wall but we measure their growth by how big their casts get...
They just grow up to dang fast....