thursday night: e.r.
I need a Jolt Cola or something, like, real bad.
Seriously, I’m sitting here at my desk in a complete state of zombieness, which is a state I just created in my mind, and I’m cold and I want to wrap up all Nanook-like in a blanket and just stare at people for awhile.
I do that a lot, by the way. When I have to be somewhere really early in the morning and I’m not awake, I’ll just huddle in a jacket and stare at people. And if people try to talk to me I hate them.
So, Sam had a volleyball game last night and even though the other team kicked our team’s collective ass in the first two games, in the third our girls woke up and started playing. And Sam was kicking all kinds of ass, hitting and blocking and hitting and blocking and so on.
Then she rolled her ankle.
Sammi has been an athlete for a long time and has had to endure her share of bench-warming, and during that time the following two rules of sports have become ingrained in her:
- Don’t cry.
- Don’t come out of the game.
So she got all Kerri Strug about the whole thing and limped up to the net and tried to go up for another block, but she couldn’t even put her weight on the ankle. The coach hadn’t noticed yet and she was insisting to the other team members that she was fine.
When she asked the coach to take her out and hobbled over to the bench in tears, we knew it was probably bad.
And by the time they got her shoe off, there was a lump the size of a baseball on her ankle. Totally grody.
So Mom and I took her to the hospital, where we spent several hours last night. In typical Sammi fashion, she was completely calm about the whole thing, and insisted that we take her through the McDonald’s drive-thru on the way so that she could get some food.
Best quote of the night, though, was when I called Ginny at home to tell her what was up.
Me: “Hey, I have some mildly bad news for you.”
Sam (from the back seat): Mild my ass, it fucking SUCKS!
Anyway. It’s not broken, which is good, but she’s on crutches and in a lot of pain and will definitely not be able to play this week, and probably not for the rest of the season.
But she’s a trooper.
So. Sam got Ace-bandaged and practiced walking on her crutches and we went home and watched Survivor, because we are losers with no life. And then I finally tumbled into bed at like 2 a.m. or something.
Hence my zombieness this morning.
6 Replies to “thursday night: e.r.”
I absolutely cannot maintain composure when a woman or a small child cries. I would have been the one they were talking about, had i been made to sit through that situation. And I don't consider myself a wuss, just overly compassionate sometimes. Not sure that's an issue, and if it is, not sure if i mind.
Ouch. That sounds like a terrible event. Get some major sleep this weekend.
Awwwww. Tell sammi i love her!
e is yours
“When I have to be somewhere really early in the morning and I'm not awake, I'll just huddle in a jacket and stare at people. And if people try to talk to me I hate them.”
This might be the source of some team's morale issues. Lack of good, sound sleep can certainly leave one drained. Hope you get the chance to get more deep, restful sleep. Getting to bed by 11pm doesn't have to be viewed as fuddy-duddy. I believe the term 'beauty sleep' is grounded in reality.
And not too long ago, I stood their while my 2 yr old daughter was being catheterized in the ER; she has a heart of innocence, a smile like the golden sun, and a laugh like the peal of pixie bells; to see her in such pain and discomfort was difficult to say the least.