Ray's cousins had invited him to their churches Bible camp with them this summer. I personally thought 8 seemed too young for 5 nights away from home. Then I realized it was more me, than him having a hard time with this concept. And since he would be staying in a cabin with 2 cousins, a family friend, have another family friend for his counselor and an uncle on site as camp dean, I was about out of good excuses. So Monday morning came his bag was packed, sleeping bag rolled, and he was off to meet the other campers from Austin. My brother-in-law had the group meeting at Walgreens and then heading up together on the church bus. When Bernie had to remind Ray (and others) to come back off the bus to tell their families good-bye, I knew he was going to be just fine. (It was still me I wasn't as sure about.) We sat in the parking lot a few minutes while the campers took some pics and loaded up and then drove off. A few blocks later, I checked my rearview mirror and saw an empty booster seat. My throat knotted and a tear or two slipped down my cheek. Sometimes being a mom is tough.
Tuesday morning I was woken up to the sound of my phone. I missed the call, saw it had been Michael and called him right back. "Hey, what's up?" It's not all that common for Michael to call from work.
"Bernie just called. Ray fell from the bunk bed and they think he may have broken his arm."
I can honestly say I wasn't horribly alarmed or startled. Somehow, and I know it was only by the grace of God, I kept my head together, devised a plan for getting the boys taken care of for the day (thank you Nicole and Grandma!) and headed off to meet up with Ray and the camp staff at the hospital in Mankato. I will admit I did have to use GPS to find the best way and I did have to check with Bernie on the way to say, "I'm on my way, but my way to where???" because I was a little sketchy on the details. It was a long couple of hours from wake up to arrival at hospital.
When I arrived at the hospital, I went straight to the ER desk. I was impressed that upon mention of Ray's name, they instantly remembered "the adorable blonde boy who was trying so hard to be brave and not cry." I was surprised when I was told it appeared that he was being discharged. "Awesome! Must not have been broken after all!" I commented.
I spoke too fast. "Oh, he is being taken up for surgery." My heartbeat and feet both sped up at that point. I managed to hear and follow the directions the lady gave me to the elevator and up the stairs. I even managed to sign the appropriate forms when I got to the surgery desk. It was such a relief once I finally got to see and hug my lil guy.
The surgeon explained that Ray had broken both bones in his right forearm all the way through and while it was not an uncommon pediatric break, it was not a desirable one. (What break is???) He performed a closed reduction to better align the bones and Ray was a champ through it all. He fell asleep as we cruised home along highway 14, and as I saw his little head bob over his splinted and slinged arm, that same pesky knot returned and I let the tears finally flow, but only for 2 minutes. Sometimes being a mom is really tough.
After some difficulty, I managed to get Ray follow up care arranged in Owatonna on Friday. We were disappointed to learn his alignment was not ideal and a second surgery was to be on Monday.
Monday was a tough day. A really tough one. Monday was a long day. A really long one. But all in all, it went well. Ray came through again like quite a little champ. Michael veered for the pharmacy and I to get the other boys. As we neared home, I glanced into my rearview mirror. Three blondies all "mmmm'ing" their blankies with super sleepy, super sweet eyes. And there was that familiar knot again and a single tear rolled down my cheek. Sometime being a mom is tough, but it is oh, so worth it.
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