A Visit to the ER

My oldest son Sam first put a lacrosse stick in his hand at age 5 and he is yet to put it down.  He started playing competitive at an early age and truly has a passion for the game.  We are the picture of a "lacrosse family" if there ever was one, six days a week right now we are involved somehow in the game.

So last Tuesday night it just seemed like any other night around the house.  My husband and Sam took off for lacrosse practice while my younger son Evan and I stayed behind.  I all of a sudden got this "mom instinct" if you will and went to the front of the house to see if they had returned home.  All I saw was my husband's truck speeding up our driveway (it's very long) and I knew something was not right.

Let me back up a few here first, you see I believe in every marriage there is one person who panics and the other does not.  Well, my husband could truly cut his left arm off and not miss a beat but put a scratch on one of his kids and panic sets in.  Actually, it sets in only if I am around to deal with it, if he truly is on his own he manages just fine.

So as I am watching Sam get out of the truck with a towel on his head I calmly pick-up my purse, keys, a water bottle and a new towel and head to the front door.  The first thing I see is my son screaming that his head hurts and my husband just saying "he's going to need stitches".  Sam and I get into my car and I am calmly talking to him about how things will be just fine and accidents happen.  He started to go into shock a little bit and started shaking along with saying he was feeling sick.  This is when I have to tell you, when you go to the ER make sure and grab some of those great vomit bags they have hanging on the wall and stick them in your glove box, you won't regret it.  So I hand him a bag and we continue on down the road.

The whole time going to the ER Sam is asking me how bad stitches are going to hurt.  I really don't believe in lying to my kids and sugarcoating things so I just flat out told him there was going to be some pain involved.  Told him just get prepared mentally and there was nothing else he could do, he just simply had to go through it.

So, four and a half hours later the doctor made his last stitch and sent us on our way.  Sam was beyond brave with the stitches, I grabbed his hand and told him to squeeze hard if he had to but he never did.  On the way home he says to me "stitches really aren't that bad and man do they look cool ! "  Great !!!

We landed on our porch at midnight and Sam was starving, nothing like eating leftovers this late but that's life.  After he got himself ready for bed he walked up to me and gave me the BIGGEST hug, looked up at my face and said "thanks mom for being there for me."  Oh, how I had to fight back the tears, I just answered "anytime buddy, I will always be there".  The perfect ending to a not so perfect night.

So, the next morning I gave him the option of going to school and shockingly he wanted to go.  About 9:30 am (a whole hour after school started) my cell phone rings and he is wanting to come home.  I figured this would kind of happen, he wanted to go show off his war wound but after that he was ready to leave.  I brought him home, we hung out, we napped and we watched movies, it was a perfect day !

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