Yup. I'm the white rabbit tonight. I forgot to post this morning because usually, I write my blogs the night before and post very late. Funny thing happened on the way to the blog. *grin*
So, yesterday, I took off from school to take my daughter to two different doctor appointments. With little else to do but wait and talk, we spent a half hour giggling over my son's past injuries. Yup, he's accident prone. He passed out in the bathroom when he was very young due to high fever and has a scar on his temple to prove it. He's broken his arm, not once, but twice in the same exact place. The first time happened when he was showing off on his skooter for a girl. That's my boy. The second happened a week after the cast was removed and while he was jumping hurdles for school. Two years ago, I took him to Urgent Care when he broke two toes playing football barefooted. Well duh.
So, we spend the day talking about other things as well and all in all it was a fun day. Except, my daughter's cell phone is on the fritz so she talked me into changing out sim cards so she could converse with her friends as we traveled two hours to her second doctor appointment. No worries. No one ever calls me anyway. Right?
Well - except there's this thing called Murphy's Law. I get home around 6:00 PM and my husband comes in shortly thereafter. "So, how was your day, dear?" to which he replies, "Rather complicated." Eh? Complicated?
Seems my accident-prone son gave plasma. Afterwards, he decided to visit his old band buddies at the high school. Now mind you, I'm not there at work because - yup, I'm two hours away at a doctor's appointment. He gets lightheaded and goes outside for air where he passes out. His friend goes for the teacher, but my son rouses himself and seems to be okay when he passes out again only this time - BONK, forehead meets cement - hard. And yes, the cement won. Think big, tall, fairly built 18-year-old. (he's 6'2", 175 lbs)
So, after a few more pints of blood gush out, the nurse sees him and they call the paramedics, he refuses to ride in the ambulance (bless his heart, he's worried over the cost) so my mom picks him up. Of course, the parking attendant doesn't realize why she's there and won't let her through because he's blocking traffic for the accident victim. Ugh. But she parks a block away and finally gets to my boy. My DH met them at Urgent Care where my son received 6 stitches and a bright red bandage. DH took him to get his car and then my son drove himself to the pharmacy as by that time he was no longer woozy.
I told my daughter later that we would never, ever mention the boy's accident-prone nature again. We don't need to tempt Murphy's law. Ugh.