Friday, February 22, Our Week of Woe


Oh hey! Has it been a week already? Dang, time flies, right? I'm going to abandon my normal Five Things format (because counting is still tricky) and fill you in on how miserable things have been around here over the last week. Because I love you all, I won't tell you just how miserable.

So. Where to begin? How about with the last thing I said to Callum as he dashed to the car on his was to go skiing exactly seven days ago. "Don't get hurt." See, here's the thing. A few weeks ago a buddy of his got hurt snowboarding and it made me think. What would we do if Neel got hurt? Our nearest skiing opportunity is three hours away, and since Blanche (our Mini Cooper) doesn't go on the freeway (she's in pre-retirement), we're down to one car when he's gone. If Neel gets hurt, how do I get to him to get him home? But these guys ski every year, they're seasoned pros. It'll all be fine. Right.

So I relished about four hours of alone time before heading to the grocery store. Halfway there, at a long light, I thought, I'll just shoot those guys a quick text to see how it's going and remind them to take pictures. When I picked up my phone there was a missed call from Neel and a text message that read: Please call me. Callum answered the phone, crying. "I got hurt." I had to pull off the road to sit and hear all the details, and once I did I went to the grocery store and, in something of a fog, bought a ton of junk food to treat my boy when he got home.

Here's what happened. On their first run (of course), Neel was a bit ahead when Cal swerved to miss a skier who was moving more slowly in his path. In a narrow part of the trail, his skies hit some rock and down he went. Neel didn't think he saw the accident but realized later that he saw Callum's skies fly off. They tell me you have to hit pretty hard for your skies to fly off. When Cal didn't get up, Neel made his way back up to him and flagged down an attendant. At first look, it was his knee. He must have hit a rock right on the knee cap because his pants were torn, he had a laceration right on the patella and the knee was already starting to swell. In comes the snow patrol (Shep!) and after checking Callum's knee and his wrist, which he only later realized was hurting, they splint him and wisk him off the mountain in something called a dogsled off to the hospital. That's where they were when they called me. So those guys faced the long drive home, with Callum splinted in the back seat. I called the pediatrician and stocked up on junk food.

The knee looks ugliest, but the wrist has been more troubling. No fracture on the X-Ray, but a severe sprain and bruising. He's in a brace for a week. We're lucky. The leg could have been broken in the fall as could have the wrist. Worst was the disappointment of missing skiing. Two tries now, and no luck for my guys.

By Saturday, my upper respiratory cold kicked back in full force. As I thought about writing my Monday post, I was planning to self-flagellate over the fact that I hadn't heeded my own (let's face it, somewhat strident) advice to rest when you start to get sick. I thought the cold was the issue. But by Saturday night, Mr. Norovirus knocked on our door. Ever heard of the Cruise Ship Virus? That's it. Having a husband who is an infectious disease expert can be handy at times like this. I'm going to skim this part, except to say that starting around midnight on Saturday I experienced possibly the worst 36 hours of my life. Here are some things I learned. 1. I don't like ginger ale, except in Pimms, which isn't really appropriate when you're throwing up at 3 AM. 2. There is very little more comforting to me than a hot bath. 3. Ice chips really do help when you're nauseated and scared to drink anything. 4. I have the most amazing husband and son a woman could ask for. I barely remember Sunday, which is good. Neel stayed home on Monday while I continued to sleep.

By Tuesday my tummy had settled down, but my sinus problems were back full force. Slept all day Tuesday. Callum got home from school on Tuesday, and right before dinner he threw up. Around 1 AM, he and I were dozing on the bathroom floor when Neel came in to say, "I have it." Boom. Boom. Boom. Our whole clan, down for the count.

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I still took pictures every day. Cheated and used my phone on Sunday and Monday to capture these shots of my faithful nurse Lucy the Beagle. She barely left my side. Neel missed his first work for illness in the ten years we've been here. We both figure we lost about nine pounds. Callum has missed all week of school. I made a cheater chicken noodle soup yesterday (I'll have a recipe next week for you.) and so far none of us are too rocky. Fragile maybe. In the midst of it all Callum accidentally used Neel's toothbrush and then Neel accidentally used Callum's. And somewhere we have a dead animal in the roof or walls of the house. Nice.

Thank you so much to all of you who checked in on me. This is my first time sitting in a chair all week! It was simply beyond me to look at the computer, much less respond to all your wonderful notes. I know you understand. I have never been happier to see a week end in my life. It can only get better from here, right?