Friday, January 1, 2016

I Survived Christmas 2015! - Part 1

I ran into my good friend, the Sample Lady, at Wal-Mart today.

"How was your holiday?" I asked.

"I survived," she replied with a little sigh.

Bless her.  Me too.  I survived.  My family is well and I have transportation.  I am very, very thankful this New Year's Day.

The past 10 days have been rather, breathless?  Is that the right word for it?  I have been up and down and in and out of so many scrapes.  Sitting here in the safety of my closet, (yes, I am now blogging in the closet.  Have a problem with that?) sipping sparkling blueberry juice and savoring a melty wedge of brie, it all seems kind of funny.  But when you have vomit dripping out of your hair in front of a roomful of virtual strangers, no one is laughing.  Nope, they are all holding their noses and wishing they were all far, far away.  And I was ready for this passing life to be done.  But that's still several "Incidents" away.  I best start at the beginning . . .

It was Wednesday, December 23rd.  Early in the morning.  I was in a tizzy to get up and at 'em.  We had big plans for the day!  First, roust my young patriots out of bed earlier than usual to meet our favorite Presidential candidate who would be speaking at the unpatriotic hour of 9 a.m.  Or maybe I'm just unpatriotic and lazy for thinking 9 a.m. is unspeakably early.  Maybe I should move to Spain.


Anyways, nothing bad happens on Wednesday morning.  Au contraire, we had an electrifying good time listening to our choice for Prez, Ted Cruz.  He gave a great speech, we whooped and hollered.  I couldn't resist heckling him a bit, though.  He started to tell a joke about tough Texans and the toughest Texan of all is Chuck Norris, etc.  You've all heard your share of Chuck Norris jokes, I'm sure.  Here's the problem.  Mr Norris was born in Ryan, Oklahoma.  That's right.  Texas, you can have your Beevo and your State Fair and your Alamo, but you can't have Chuck Norris!  He's an Okie, whether he wants to admit it or not. 

That's all I have to say about that. 

It's a good thing the Secret Service decided I wasn't a threat, ha!

After the speechifying we all headed down to the stage where Ted Cruz was signing signs and taking pictures.  Cy had his hoodie autographed.  Which is cool, except it is actually Dee's jacket, even though it is too big for Dee and fits Cy, but Cy has a ton of jackets and Dee said that I said it was his and . . . well, you can see where this is going.  The fabled autographed orange hooded sweatshirt is being constantly fought over.  Why couldn't we just be happy with a mass produced autographed sign?  Why?!  The real highlight of the morning was when Mr Cruz dropped to one knee to visit with Miss Elle.  They talked about October birthdays and his little girl, whose birthday is two days after Elle's.  They talked about Halloween and costumes.  She informed him that we did not celebrate Halloween.  He gave her a fist bump.  There were reporters snapping pictures everywhere.  It was awesome!

 After our brush with fame, we headed home to pack, go to church and then leave for OKC immediately following.  We had just finished our Wednesday fellowship meal and the fellowship was still going strong when Miss 'Manda tapped me and said, "Have you seen Dee's eye?"  There was something in her voice that made my stomach lurch.  One look and I understood.  He had a lump the size of a golf ball protruding beneath his eyebrow.  I went into a modified panic.  It was the sort of feeling you would have if someone had a board sticking out of their head and didn't realize it yet.  He was calm but puzzled as to the looks of abject horror on every adult's face.  He wanted to look in the mirror, but I wouldn't let him.  I was thinking major trauma, possible orbital socket fracture, definitely a concussion, maybe optic nerve damage if not outright brain hemorrhage.  All from colliding with another kid's head in a backyard scrimmage.  I pulled on my MASH triage alter ego and got to work.  I would take Dee to the Emergency Room to get checked out.  Robert would take the other children home to wait for an update.  Dee's biggest concern was  that we were going to cancel Christmas.  I assured him that Christmas wouldn't be canceled, no matter what.  I was trying to stay calm, but when he told me his vision was black and white out of that eye, I hit the hazard lights and the gas.

I didn't know what we would be facing when we reached the E.R.  I was afraid to look too closely at his face.  We finally arrived and I ushered him up to the front desk.  The nurses behind the desk didn't gasp or shudder or faint from the ghastliness of the injury.  That's a good sign.  In fact, now that I had a chance to look at him a little more closely, his eye was actually looking a little bit better.  The swelling had spread, but that was kind of comforting.  At least it looked like a normal black eye now, instead of the massive internal injuries I was certain had been sustained.  By the time the Nurses and Doctor had a chance to examine him I was completely reassured.  It was only a bad bruise.  No concussion.  No crushed eye socket.  No leaking brains.  He was just fine.

Thank you, Lord.

The obligatory E.R. selfie


We went ahead and set out for Oklahoma City from the hospital.  Dee was happy that Christmas was right on schedule and he was enjoying the one on one attention from Mom.  By the time we reached his grandparent's house, his left eye had swollen completely shut.

He could totally star in the next Rocky movie!


Or be a really mean biker . . .
So, Disaster #1 is in the books.  We survived, yay!  Stay tuned for the Tornado Flooding Blizzard Ice Storm Of Doom and it's sequels, Attack of the Killer Pothole and Revenge of the Vomiting Toddler, next time on Holidays Gone Wild.

Go heat up your cup of coffee, I'll wait for ya!