And just when I thought it was safe...

I got a call at work this afternoon from the school nurse. This is never a good type of call to get. Usually the only call from school I dread worse than that one is the call from the principal. Those calls never seem to go well either when you have a special needs child with impulse control issues.

The nurse, who understands the stress case I've been since Collin was diagnosed with a seizure disorder said in one breath, "This is the nurse Collin is fine, but...." But? Oh please, no buts! I hate buts. The but was that he fell off the swings and hurt his wrist. I asked if I should pick him up, and she said no, she just wanted to make sure I was alright with giving him Tylenol and she'd call me in 30 minutes and let me know. So 20 minutes later, she called back to say he needed an x-ray. Not again!!

By not again, I refer to the infamous adventure Collin had last year, right at the beginning of summer. He decided that jumping down the 7 steps into the living room would be a good idea. After all, flying down the stairs is certainly faster than walking. Really, could you fault his logic? He unfortunately did not take into account the fact that the landing strip was not clear. He hit a shoe as he came in for a landing and fell on his wrist. SNAP!

But, his reaction following this break, has already become the stuff of legend in our family. As he was laying on the floor in my arms crying that it hurt, I told him that daddy would be home soon to take him to the ER. He plaintively cried, "But you made sausage for dinner!" So, as we waited for Chris to get home, I fed him like a little bird. He wouldn't leave without a container of sausage.

But it only gets better from there. When they got to the ER, there was a teenage girl who was really sick. She was throwing up non-stop into a bucket in the waiting room. Collin sat almost directly across from her, and suddenly saw that Home Alone was playing. He plopped himself contentedly in front of the large tv where he preceded to happily eat his sausage, cmpletely oblivious of the poor girl who is hurling a few feet away! Ahh, the silver lining of being easily distractd.

Moral of the story, sausage heals all wounds. OK, not exactly, maybe when it rains it pours? Or perhaps, people can't fly down the stairs or off the swings? Perhaps there is not a moral. Perhaps it's simply life. I just wish life would go a little easier on Collin.