Life of Wry

….to 13 years ago this week (March 10, 2010, says the timestamp). I chose the year at random and this is what I found…

Peter was 11 years old, a big sixth grader at Cesar Chavez Elementary School. Out on the playground, he inadvertently intercepted a flying sneaker.. which hit him square in the eye. He never saw it coming. It was kicked from the foot of one of the more .. uh.. rambunctious agitators in the sixth grade class, a girl whose name I shall withhold (I can’t remember it anyway!). Not sure what she was doing, but in the course of some animated gesture, her shoe — a high top — flew off her foot, sailed through the air, and found Peter’s face.

I can’t remember what exactly happened next, probably the nurse’s office, but in short order we were picking him up and on our way to…

Peter is not a happy camper.

I mean, poor little guy, huh? You hate to see your kid in so much discomfort.

They ran a lot of tests.. concussion checks, eye exams. They wanted to do a CT scan and Jim, in particular, was not comfortable with the radiation exposure. Ultimately, an MRI was done instead, the results of which were satisfactory. He did have a year’s worth of follow up in order to track developments in his eye, which also produced a happy ending.

Grateful for access to sophisticated medical resources.. especially when administered professionally and compassionately. (I figure we should acknowledge the successes in our medical care.. you know.. because so much of it is so very frustrating and clunky.)

And deeply grateful he emerged with all faculties intact.

Also: I love him sooo much. (Yeah.. this stuff still gives me a jolt of adrenaline and makes me cry.)