Full Moon?

Yesterday was crazy. We experienced bi-polar weather and an encounter with grass that put us in stitches. But we weren’t laughing over either one.

The weather was an almost-balmy, sunny 50 something degrees, and Rock Star (13) went outside to play football in the yard in the late afternoon. I was trying to tie up some loose ends around the house in preparation for my evening, which included dinner with my Drama Team. As I was drinking tea while doing some paperwork, I felt a presence over my shoulder, and turned to see Rock Star standing there, looking pale. “What’s up, Buddy?” I asked.

He hesitated, then said, “I didn’t want to bother you while you were on the phone. And I know you’re trying to get ready to go out to dinner, but I need to tell you something. When I was playing football, I slipped on the grass and cut my arm. I think I need stitches.” ????!!!! I am an R.N. and do not panic during medical crises, but I admit that I cringed a bit when I saw the 3 inch gaping laceration on my son’s forearm. I cleaned it out, then agreed that we’d need to head to an Immediate Care for sutures. A new milestone in my family: The first child to get stitches!

Rock Star is the most unassuming, never-wants-to-be-any-trouble kind of teen. He astounds me with his innate sweet sensitivity. His tears began in the car; partly out of fear of needles, and also because he thought he’d ruined my evening. He worried about the cost of the medical care. He was concerned that he’d messed up my dinner plans. He apologized for playing football. He hoped he hadn’t damaged the grass. He took responsibility for pretty much everything except global warming and the Iraq War. I reassured him. No need to worry about the cost; that’s why we have insurance. No worries about my dinner plans; the Drama Team will understand.

By the time I parked my car at the Immediate Care, the temperature had dropped about 30 degrees, and it was raining buckets and hailing. I looked like a freakin’ drowned rat as I checked us in. Fortunately we were seen almost immediately by a fantastic trio of health care professionals that cleaned, numbed, and then sutured my child’s arm in the most gentle of manners. We were sent home within two hours of arrival, my son now sporting 8 sutures on his tender arm like a badge of honor.

I was able to get to the restaurant on schedule to join my Drama Team, where I enjoyed much joviality over pizza and wine with this group of actors; my most fun friends in the world! A few hours later, I drove home in an icy raging snowstorm, wind whipping all over the place and threatening to sweep my car off the road; the sunny warmness of the afternoon now a thing of the past. The temperature was 52 degrees colder. Weird. A very peculiar day.