Thursday, September 22, 2005

Road Rash


Pocket Mini Bike

My son acquired one of these about a month ago. He's been pretty good about being careful on it, at least when within sight of our home. I don't let him ride it after dark, or any main roadways. He always wears his helmet too. Good thing too - he wiped out last night. He found out that sand is slippery when you are on a bike. He tore up his elbow pretty good, and has slight road rash on his back. He's lucky. It could have been a lot worse.

Unfortunately, he doesn't see it that way. He can be such a drama queen. He almost immediately started in with being too injured to go to school tomorrow. "You'll live, you're going to be sore, but you are going to school tomorrow". That was all the sympathy I could muster for him, and it pissed him off. "Fine! Then I will go to the nurses office and stay there for the day! You'll have to come pick me up!" I wasn't taking the bait though. He actually had me put a sling on his arm because it hurt too badly to straighten it out. He was milking it, big time.

He calmed down once the adrenaline rush subsided. He soaked in a nice hot bath for a bit and felt better afterwards. Once he was convinced he didn't need stitches or hospitalization he turned his attention to the bike. It got pretty scratched up too, he believes the forks are bent - I couldn't see it. I finally told him to leave it until tomorrow because he was too shaken up to think clearly.

I've been extremely fortunate my son has never had a serious injury. The only ER trip I ever made for him was when he was 6 and hit himself in the head with the claw end of a hammer. It required 3 stitches to close. I blew the motor in my Ford Tempo doing 80 on the way to the hospital. This could have been a lot worse. A lot.

Blood an guts visions kept flashing through my head as I bandaged him up. My cool demeanor belied my inner turmoil. As parents we always want to keep our kids safe, no matter how old they are. It's not easy for a mother to let her child go. He isn't my blond little baby anymore. I couldn't just kiss it and make it better like I used to.

I said a prayer and thanked God for watching over my boy. I know his Guardian Angel works a lot of overtime, for that, I am grateful.

5 comments:

KFarmer said...

My daughters nickname is Mary Grace...growing up she/we knew every ER doctor within a 50 mile radius of home. Now that she has moved, she now knows more. Has widened her horizons so to speak. Bless her heart. Softballs to the nose, broken leg, jammed wrist sliding into second.I could go on and on but I guess you get the picture.

Some GA's just have an extra load. I think they must be specially picked. Thank God.

KFarmer said...

so is tomorrow still the big day?

Sharfa said...

kfarmer - I'm counting my blessings twice now! Sheesh!

Shafa said...

You're lucky you didn't have me, Sharfa. I started off with a concussion at 4 (trying to be Superman), broken arm at 5 (testing a booby-trap that involved a dolly), broken leg at 8 (bike accident), and about 7 other broken bones and two knee injuries.

Yes, I do all my own stunts!

Your son will be fine! Just keep Neosporin, bandages and a cattle prod handy. Two for healing, one for discipline.

TALLY-HO!

Sandra said...

Three words (aside from "helmet") for your son: long pants & jacket. My younger brother took a nasty spill off a bike and the docs said that was what saved his skin from...well, not feeling so well. All the best re: helping a testosterone-filled teenager grow up. :)