Trippin'

Thursday the Fro Boy took a nasty hit at his football game and landed in the hospital. I loved the kid and he's pretty bright, but he's also got a bad case of the stupids. He'd already injured his arm and knee earlier in the game but decided not to tell anyone for fear that he'd be pulled out of the game. Of course he's the team captain and what kind of example would that be. At some point during the second half of the game his team had possession and he was on the line when he took one to the head. My brother, who is one of his coaches. runs out on the field to get him up and the first thing the boy says to him is,"Dad, I can't move my legs." Talk about some scary shit.

So into the meatwagon and off to the ER for the boy. We got the call after Pat had been waiting for a doctor for a couple hours. Michele has accepted the fact that now that she's the family doctor, she's going to get just this kind of call on a regular basis. Of course there's nothing she can do from 200 miles away but I can certainly understand that it's reassuring to talk to her when nobody in the ER will pay attention. He was eventually admitted and stayed two nights and as the swelling on his spine went down he slowly got his legs back. He was discharged yesterday around the same time Michele and I were driving down to see him. He looked halfway decent when we saw him, but he was also still quite under the influence of morphine too. He's going to be fine but no more football this year, maybe next year if he promises to be less stupid, someone might let him put on a helmet, but it's a bit early to talk about that.

As for Michele and I, we're in Portland for the next few days to visit family and friends until I have to be back at work on Wednesday. I delivered Volpe Sr. back to it's rightful owner yesterday. Michele and I were both a little surprised by the amount a appreciation Tim showed at my handiwork. Anyway, it's done now and I can shift my attention fully to the rowboat for the next little while.