Oops, He Did it Again

You might think this story originated today. But you'd be wrong. This story originated on an early day in August of 1972. That would be the day my Mr. McFearless was born...with a penchant for all things daring and adventurous. I've heard the tales of his exploits as a boy/teen growing up... things I doubt even his mother knows all about. Tales of sitting on the end of a tractor that is headed up a steep hill and jumping right before the tractor topples...and tales of finding his way on top of his church where he and his sidekick played. This and more found its way as a way of life for my Mr. McRisky and eventually led to his choosing a career where risk is a daily calling. I knew this going in. And I admit I liked it. I liked the fact that he was brave and strong...and took chances. I still do.

What is a much harder pill to swallow though...is that both my punks were evidently born with the same gene. I think it was in between the birth of the boys that Steve stumbled across this, and it seemed to validate every daring, risky stunt he had ever pulled. I read the book too, and as much as it scares me to say it...I want the boys to live their life passionately, with adventure, and bravery...and yes, risk. I want them to have warrior hearts and fight for what is right and just. I want them to climb trees and mountains...and travel long roads for a good cause. I want them to be roller-coaster loving and fast go-kart driving...and to face their fears with The Sword in their hand. I want them to be high-divers and long-jumpers...ahhh, yes...JUMPING.

Why on earth would you slide when you can jump? That feeling of falling through the air is only rudely interrupted by a wrong landing...a crack and an ankle that is now pointed sideways instead of straight. Such is the story of a 12 year old warrior boy who grabbed his ankle, popped it back into place straight...and has a tremendously high pain tolerance.

Today started out as any other day...me going in to wake up the boys for school. I knew both of them would bound out of bed because Caleb had a field trip to go to, and Cody had his end of year party at a local park. Cody jumped out of bed and donned his most comfy shorts and his grade-level tee. Caleb turned over and told me he didn't feel good...he had a headache and was sore all over. I told him he was probably sore from football camp they had just finished the night before...to get up and get dressed and I would get him a Tylenol to help with the aches. As soon as I felt his head though, I knew there would be no field trip for my feverish youngest warrior boy today.

On the way to take Cody to school, I called to make an appointment for Caleb. We've gone through too many Fridays of being sick without going to the doctor...only to suffer through the weekend before being able to get some meds on Monday. Told Cody I would try to make it to his party at some point during the day.

Caleb tested negative for strep and flu...so evidently a virus of some sort... we're very familiar with this routine. As I'm walking out of Caleb's doctor's visit, I get a call that went like this:

"Hi Mrs. Pierce, Cody has taken a fall here at the park and his leg is hurting him quite a bit. We think you need to come get him." I'm thinking...okay, he's probably sprained his leg or something...it happens and he'll get over it in a day or two. And then she adds, "And the school nurse is on her way too. She thought we might need to call an ambulance."

Now is when I don't want him to be a warrior boy...I want him to play nicely with his friends, fold his hands, say his prayers, read a book...and how about SLIDE down the bouncer slide instead of jumping!

So today ended up being the polar opposite of a normal day (although it's becoming more of a norm for us it seems)...and a day we spent here...again...just a closer location this time...

...with this

and after x-rays and a CT scan...this...a fractured fibula...

...and a fractured ankle,


and some good pain meds.


And why is this punk here with me?


'Cause there was no time to run him home to fight off his virus. Good thing we ended up at the hospital. Poor boy...brother had to one-up his sick day.

So after the wrapping...

and splinting...

...we got to do this...


Our living room now resembles a M.A.S.H. unit...


for the crippled and infected.

After being home for a couple of hours, I went out to find this...


Cody's teacher had brought by Get Well balloons and stuffed our mailbox full of handmade get well cards, Sudoku puzzles...and candy from his classmates. So sweet.

We are adjusting to a new look...


and trying to live with the fact that our summer is going to be way different than we had planned.

We follow up with an orthopedist next week...and find out if there will be a surgery with a cast, or just a cast. Neither will work with the season passes to Six Flags and Hurricane Harbor they received as Christmas presents. Neither will work with swimming, or mountain bike riding...or playing an impromptu game of baseball or football on the ranch.

Would he do it again? Tonight when he was asking for more pain medication...no. Ask him again in a few days...he might possibly say 'yes.'

They can't help it...they take after their dad and they're wild at heart. It's a treacherous combination.