My poor Mr. He went out Monday night to the YMCA to play basketball, regular stuff. 8:20 he calls me and tells me he injured himself, and that I need to take him tot he hospital.
The kids, who are already in PJ's and ready for bed, need to be bundled up, some toys/distractions grabbed for them, and herded outside, where the Mr pulls up. He hobbles around to the passenger side, and I hop in the drivers seat. When D found out I'd be driving he was very concerned with me breaking the law, convinced I was going to go to jail. I had to explain that it was ok to break the law because it was an emergency. So, we shuttled off the to hospital, and tossed the Mr in a wheelchair, and as I parked the truck and herded the kids inside, they took him in.
He has always had weak ankles, and about once every two years or so he twists one ankle pretty bad, or sprains it (always playing basketball), or whatever. Well, this time he fractured his ankle. Poor guy was in so much pain, all I could do was offer ice packs, his prescrips, and my presence with him on the couch. We've been vegging out on the couch since then, watching movies, TV shows, and all I'm gonna say is thank GOD for NatGeo & The Discovery Channel.
We didn't leave the hospital that night until 11:30, and ended up heading out to grab some food as we were all pretty hungry by then. We ate, and the kids zonked right out. I've been trying to have them catch up on sleep here and there, but it's rather difficult when we've got such a busy schedule.
Fuck.
I love my Mr, and I do hope for his speedy recovery. I'm not mad at him for getting injured, not upset at all that I have an opportunity to spend some time with him...but fuck. This is Horrible timing. D's birthday party is scheduled for the 21st, and we haven't gotten his gift yet. I haven't paid for the reservation of the place yet. All I have so far is the decorations for the theme, we ordered them about a week and a half ago, thankfully.
I don't care if anything else gets paid this month, so long as D gets what we planned on buying him, and he has a great birthday party. He only turns 7 once, and I'll be damned if I ever give him a birthday party he can't remember. He's my oldest, and he deserves it. He deserves to know how much we love him, and treasure him. He deserves the party, and I'll be damned if he's forced to give it up this month. So, I guess I get to do some fundraising of my own. Or something to ensure his good birthday. Oh glory...even though we try our hardest to avoid drama, it is somehow created with our own actions.
1 thoughtful remarks:
That last sentence rings so, so true. It'll work out. Us moms are very inventive.
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