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Saturday, January 28, 2017

my son was in an accident and went to the hospital

Yesterday, my son, the boy, went to a ski day with his school at Edelweiss Valley in Wakefield, Quebec. He had only gone skiing once before, last year. He enjoyed it and really wanted to go again this time round. No problem. He sorted his gear the night before, including my old army winter goggles that he loves and I will never get back. Oh well.

The wife dropped him off early at the school so he would make the bus. No problem. I proceeded to start prepping for the night's taco dinner. I made a huge bowl of guacamole. I cut up onions, lettuce, sweet peppers, organised the pickled jalapeños for toppings. I did not have enough fixings for fresh salsa, so that would be Herdez from a jar, hot. Good stuff, no problem. Then I realised that I did not have any tomatoes or sour cream. No problem. I was going to pick up the boy at the end of the day, so I would hit a store and get what we were short. The wife would sort the cheese when she got home.

I also got a soup stock started of the turkey carcass I froze after Christmas as well. Then I prepped some ground top sirloin beef and pork, onions and garlic, and seasonings for the taco filling. That I would fry up after the boy and I got home. Some tidying around the house and the like. Everything on schedule. Ahead, actually. I even got my blog post out. So, at about 1:00PM I jumped into the shower. With the extra time I was going to head over to MMBooks, if I could scrounge up some book money. No problem. I would then reverse course and head off to get the rest of the taco fixings and take back the NorthFace pants I bought on Monday, as the store is near the boy's school.

So, I am in the shower, shampoo getting in my eyes, and soaping up. My mobile phone rings. By the ringtone, it was an unknown caller or someone lower down the importance tree as it was the general ringtone I set on the phone. I grab the phone off the sink and look at the display, dripping soapy water all over the place in the process. Private number? Okay, I have a few friends who have blocked numbers as per the requirements of their employment parameters. Yet, due to their employment, I rarely hear from them. Maybe once, sometimes twice, a year. So, I think, "I better answer this". Hopefully it is not someone soliciting....

....Then something flashed through my mind. The boy! He has had a couple of jerky boys at school hassling him. Was this what was happening? Did he have enough and retaliate. No, it is not that.... Good god! Did something happen?! "Stay calm," I told myself. It is probably a "free" cruise or maybe the "Canada Revenue Agency" calling to tell me there was a bench warrant for my arrest for non-payment of taxes. A bizarre scam that had been going around.

Well, I answer the phone. It was a teacher from the school who was on the ski trip with the kids, assuring me everything is fine, but that the boy has had an accident and is being boarded and brought down the hill by the ski patrol. Then off to Wakefield Hospital via ambulance. Okay!!?!!??!! "Stay calm." 

The teacher assures me that this is just a standard precaution. I know this, but.... So, she tells me I should head out to the hospital to meet them. It is about an hour's drive. I advise the teacher that I am currently in the shower and all soapy, but will be on my way.

I finish up in the shower, dig up some clothes and get dressed. So, I am thinking that I know everything is fine, but what if it is not and we are in there for a while or it is like many hospitals in Ontario and we end up sitting around for hours and hours. I grab some books for me, the boy, and the wife. Water bottles too. I also grab some reassurance for the boy, his Komodo Dragon: Wandery. He got this guy a few years ago when we went down to visit some friends in St.Augustine, Florida at the St.Augustine Alligator Farm Zoological Park, a really cool place.


Then I call the wife. I tell her what I know. I ask her if she wants me to pick her up, knowing that there is no way she will be able do anything but worry. Yes, pick her up. I turn off the stove element for the stock pot, load up the truck. Wait. I need a hat. I grab my blogging hat. (My thinking cap.) Out the door I go.

the source of my wisdom and strength 

On my way the phone rings, private number. Hands free, I answer, it is the teacher. She tells me he is fine, everything is operating fine on the boy, but.... He is still boarded and about to depart for the hospital. I know this is a standard safety precaution, but....

Anyway, I tell the teacher that I will be there in about an hour and a half because I am picking up the wife, because....

So, I am assured everything is okay. Do we know what happened? In the back of my mind, I think maybe one of the jerky boys plowed him. The teacher tells me it was a solo accident, one ski must have hung up on something and flipped him. Flip him big time I think. The ski patrol was right there when it happened. Well that was a good thing.

I call the wife. First I ask, as I am still close to home, do you have his OHIP Card, we will need it? (There is a reciprocal agreement, for the most part, between provinces in Canada.) Yes. Good. I give her the update, tell her too that he is still boarded and going to hospital, but it is just a standard safety precaution. Does she still want me to pick her up. Of course! Of course.

As an aside, I do understand the principle as to why the Province of Ontario only issues one OHIP Card to everyone. To mitigate fraud. However, most parents do not give their pre-teen kid their OHIP Card to carry around. Why not make it possible for parents to have one each as well that can only be used by the individual parent, say even a key fob type, that is tied to the parent's OHIP Card, until the kid is sixteen? Or even, have multiple OHIP numbers on the parent's card. Their own and their kid's/kids'. Anyway, back to our regularly scheduled program.

So, I get the wife at 2:00PM on the dot. Remember, I got a call in the shower sometime after 1:00PM and it is about a thirty minute drive to the wife's place of work. I was not even driving like an ass. It was like time slowed down for me after the initial call. I had similar experiences when I was in the Army.

Off we go. As per Google, about a forty-five minute drive. On a Friday. To ski country. Just barely ahead of rush hour. On the way there on Highway417, there was jerky driver in a CBC van. Van № 6 in fact. He was weaving all over the place, riding up people's rears and cutting them off. Finally, he got off. Then we get off, swing over one of the bridges into Quebec. I tell the wife I should get gas as I am pretty low, plus there is some ice blocking one of the washer fluid dispensers. We do that, I clear the squirter (sorry to be using the technical term), get on the highway and get to the hospital. At 2:56PM. A tiny looking place. It is modern, clean, and the staff are friendly, in bothofficial languages.

We find the teacher that called me. Reassurances again. Where is the boy? In for x-rays. I know. Standard procedure. We go through the door into the examination area. The first thing we see from an oblique angle is a kid with hair that looks like the boys by colouring on a gurney. On a board. With a neck brace. All bundled up. I can sense the wife's gasp. I am not sure if she did out loud, but my soul heard it. Teacher: "Oh, that's not him."...."There he is.".... On a gurney. On a board. With a neck brace. Not bundled up. He looked quite chipper actually. Again, I sense the wife. A reserved sigh of relief.

The doctor tells us, no worries. Everything looks fine. Just waiting to review x-rays to be 100%. We follow the gurney into an examination room. And I say, "Hey hotdog!" The boy smirks. I sense my own relief. We joke about him trying to spoil taco night. Blah, blah, blah.

I find the teacher, teachers actually. The other person we saw on the gurney, was a girl from the boy's school who blew out her ankle and wiped out. So, they came to be there for them.

I ask about his gear. They have the boy's gear in a garbage bag. Thankfully, they did not cut away his clothes. Well, that is a good sign. If they really thought something was wrong, they would have cut it off. I look through the bag. All his outer wear, except boots and his bag. Of course, he was wearing ski boots and he would not be wearing his bag skiing. I ask. Oh, yeah. Apparently on two other buses, headed back into the city. Okay. No problem. His lunch will be pretty ripe by next week. Oh well.

The doctor comes back, x-rays are good. He is released, but hang on. Just wait a few minutes. They are making a CD copy of the x-rays if there are any concerns. Wow. Okay. I tell them I will give them to our family doctor to put in his file. "That's a good idea." Thanks.

In the mean time, another kid is brought in, apparently right off the slopes. A busy place. I ask the teachers if it one of theirs. No, someone would have called. They hope. Some quick texting. Nope. Some other school.

We are done. We thank the teachers, the doctors, the nurses, the staff, everybody. The boy gets dressed. No boots. Okey-dokey, I will carry him. We sort out the parking cost. $5.00 flat rate. Cheap. Cool. Everything is good to go. I piggy-back the boy to the truck. Man, no lightweight anymore. Good thing I am strong like ox (smart like tractor). Pay for parking. On our way. 4:03PM.

We got get the wife's car. I put the boy in with her. I still have to return the pants and get tomatoes and sour cream. I also gas up again before getting home. I am back at 5:33PM. We are eating before 7:00PM. I also finished up the turkey stock. No problem. blbbl

wandery, the komodo dragon

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