Monday, March 22, 2010

Adventures with The Boy

Have I ever said life was dull? No? Didn't think so. Over the last week, the weather has been so accommodating, so The Boy has been able to take his motorcycle out and about. After returning home from a very nice afternoon spent with Grandma and Grandpa, the Aunt, Uncle and cousins and the other Uncles, The Boy got together with his counterpart to go riding. After all, racing season will be upon us soon (next month?!?) and the boys need to practice up.

Around and around they went, engines roaring. First one boy was in front, then the other, then back again. The Boy's best bud went through, then the best bud's cousin. We all looked back up the hill and waited. No Boy. I glanced toward the back of the hill where The Boy should have come down and then around and saw a red clad arm pop up. "He's down!" I cried to Batman. Immediately all the momma-bear instinct in me rose up, while the level head in Daddy instructed me to stay put. He was going for him. See, Daddy knows me all too well. He is completely aware of the fact that I am a competent EMT, but he also knows full well that when it comes to the littles, "Mommy" comes first, and there would be no such thing as a level head. I remained down at the house with our friend, staring up at the hill. M smiled and told me it was ok, Daddy and the Best Bud's daddy were up there. I quickly responded that was great, but it was completely against my nature to stay away. That's my baby up there! The Girl then piped up and informed me that The Boy isn't exactly a baby. Ah, to explain again that no matter how old they are, they will always be my babies and I will always love them and want to protect and shield them and make everything all right. She'll get it someday. :)

When the entourage made it's way down to the house, I pounced. I knew that Daddy had undoubtedly checked every single finger and toe and everything in between, but now it was my turn. After ensuring that nothing was broken, I pulled out the light and checked his eyes. Two beautiful brown eyes. Check. Pupils reacting and equal. Check. We said goodbye to the guys and took The Boy inside and deposited him on the couch.

Suddenly, he began repeating the same phrase OVER and OVER and OVER. We would tell him that he just told us that - ten times - and his response was, "oh, that is probably a problem." Pause. "I had a dream. It was all a dream." *deep breath in. and out.* Boy, you told us that. Ten seconds ago. "I did? I don't remember." Pause. "I had a dream..." Ack! To the car. We knew he had a concussion, but with the repetition, we weren't going to play around. Down to the ER we went. Again.

By the time we got down there, The Boy's head seemed to be on straight again, but getting checked out was still a good idea. Dr. R was on - the same one The Boy saw for his lip, so of course, he was immediately harassed. We promised that this time his helmet had been On. His. Head. The Boy was handed one of those very attractive dresses hospital gowns to wear for the duration. He was checked head to toe again and thumbs up were given. He looked fantastic and was sounding like himself again, but it was one of those "better safe than sorry deals." Afterbreaking his helmet, not remembering a good half-an-hour to forty-five minutes long chunk of time and repeating himself, a scan was definitely in order, so, we sat back to wait for the CAT scan tech.

While we waited, we finally got to the bottom of "the dream." It seems that a month ago or so, The Boy dreamt that he and the Best Bud were out riding and he wrecked and hurt his head. He said that right before he went up the hill, he remembered the dream, but thought that was a funny thing to remember - everything was fine. Hmm... Didn't we JUST talk about this in church that very day? Why, yes, we did! It's all about learning to listen (and follow) that still small voice. We told him that if something like that ever happened again, by all means, LISTEN! That was God speaking into his ear and warning him.

The tech came in and took The Boy away, and we waited. He was brought back after what felt like hours in short order. We were given two thumbs up once again, signed the release papers, and made our way home.

The results of the CAT scan?

Kitty says he's just fine. Incidentally, so do the doctors.

We kept him up until after two in the morning (not supposed to let them sleep for a few/several hours with a concussion), so this morning he is understandably tired.

Other than that, he is no worse for the wear and is ready to jump back on the bike. 'Atta boy. I guess. Helmet? Check. Riding boots? Check. Every.Single.Other. piece of riding equipment? Check. I know one mommy that is quite grateful for the hand of God and for helmets, chest protectors, neck braces, riding gloves, pants and boots. And for a level headed and caring daddy. And for the protecting hand of God. I mentioned that one already? Sorry, I figured it was worth mentioning again. :)


Rachel said...

Lol...guess that's what comes with the whole "boys and their fast toys". :) I have never understood it and probably never will! Haha!

mira said...

hmm, maybe that's why kids stop going to children's church and stay in the service instead right about his age. Definitely a testimony to the importance of recording and giving import to those little "nigglings" or "dreams" or "intuitions" the Holy Spirit sends our way!! That boy must be covered in prayer!

...going to locate and turn on the phone now...

Bug and Eye said...

hugging you and praising God that the boy is fine and learning about the still small voice!

Your Hostess said...

Ahaha, E - your commentary and that last picture are classic! So very glad everything is okay with The Boy. Shall I send him a Matchbox to play with in lieu of the real deal?

Mrs. Guthrie said...

*lol* You can send him a Matchbox if you want, but I have to forewarn you... He'll still jump on the real deal. (The Boy and the Best Bud are being groomed to go in to racing...) Gotta jump back on... I guess. :)