Well, be careful what you wish for. Two nights ago we received a text from one of the 4-H camp chaperones letting us know that RT had taken a fall on his right knee and it was now swollen up like a balloon. They said he appeared fine... other than the swelling and color changing (I learn this later...) Now, I am trying to be a more faithful (in the holy sense) person, so I take the horrible, unsettled, nagging feeling that I had been having as a sign that I should swallow 800 mg of Motrin, pack my aching back in the car and drive over to check on my little campers. Well, no sooner had I arrived than a tearful RT joined me for a trip to the staff bathroom so I could inspect the damage. And damage there was...
Now, anger and fear are wonderful, pain-killing emotions. One minute I'm flat on my back at home in the game room, drooling from the muscle relaxers to help my back. The next minute I am packing into the car one child's camping crap, duffel bags, sleeping bag, air mattress, and other loose stuff that I probably mistakenly stole for the poor kid's bed next to RT's. I hugged Bee ( bravest little camper that there ever was), said good-bye, and scooped up my big boy and we were outta there, truckers!
One doctor visit, one x-ray, and one knee-immobilizer-place visit later, the pediatrician says no fracture on the x-ray, but still an angry, swollen knee. So, now we sit and wait for the orthopedist to call for the big appointment. Hopefully tomorrow.
Bee will come home tomorrow.
The sun will come out - tomorrow - bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be sun...
One camper home... One shortly on her way. I need my little ducklings home. Things are not good when they're away.
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