8-22-05

Uh, yeah, it's been a Monday every since yesterday, even when it wasn't a Monday.

It started off yesterday evening. We had just gotten in from church. I planned to play on the computer for a while, but the wife beat me to it! The nerve!

So I went out to feed the dogs. As I was in the garage, my youngest son came outside. I didn't really pay much attention to him. So I fed the animals, came back inside and saw the wife was still hogging the computer.

I did what any man would do under the circumstances, I complained then took advantage of the free time to hit the old xBox up. Medal of Honor European Assault is the game I have been playing the most.

Yeah, I know, 42-year old men should not be playing games, but there are a lot of other things we have to do that shouldn't be a part of our agenda.

So I was kicking rear in a stage that I had been having trouble getting through for days. The Nazi's were going down left and right. Then I heard the front door open and the youngest son holler for his mother.

I recognized something wasn't right, but let the wife deal with it. That's her department when I'm involved in blowing up weapons and shooting the Krauts.

The wife hollered at me and I paused the game. He had a knot the size of a baseball on his head and scratches on his feet and hands. He had suffered a scooter injury.

I had told him several times not to be out riding the silly scooter at night. But he did the same thing the rest of the family does: they ignored me.

We had to take him to the emergency room to get his gourd checked out. I dreaded this as I had heard a lot of bad things about the hospital, but had no personal experience with the hospital in several years.

Everybody was very nice. The nurses, staff and doctor were very professional and I couldn't ask for better help.

My only complaint was my son was feeling a little sick so we asked if they had anything in case he got sick. The nurse came back with a bag, a CLEAR bag. I still thought we'd get out okay, but then he got sick and yacked in the CLEAR bag. A CLEAR bag with measurements on the side so you could figure out just how much a person vomited.

Now I personally thought this was rather gross. It's bad enough watching a person get sick, but when they have to puke in a clear bag, that's a little much.

The doctor thought he would be okay, but wanted to get a CAT scan, just to be safe. As he came back from getting the CAT scan, he got sick again and didn't quite make it to the toilet. I felt sorry for the housekeeping lady.

He's okay, just has a headache and will get to miss school for the next couple of days.