It was the 3rd inning during Saturday's baseball game and Shaggy's team was up 6-1; a first, as they've lost all their previous games due to stupid little errors. These boys can shut a runner out between bases like there's no tomorrow but then turn around and overthrow a base and give it all up. Anyhow, this game, they were ON and we were thrilled. Shaggy's turn at bat came up.
We've been mercilessly working on batting over the past few weeks; an extra day a week with his coach, trips to the batting cages, etc., and this kiddo can RIP the ball when he quits over thinking everything. I prayed he wouldn't over think and just swing. He did, but a little low and popped a foul ball. It was a great swing, though. The next pitch, he swears the pitcher smiled at him just before he Whanged him in the thigh. Instant walk to 1st base. He rubbed his leg just above the knee when he got there but was grinning so the Momma Bear in me relaxed a little. That's baseball. Sometimes you get whacked with the ball (especially by this pitcher who was throwing fast but WILD. Absolutely no freaking control).
The next batter was up. The catcher dropped the ball and Shaggy stole 2nd. Woo hoo!! Rinse and Repeat; he's now on 3rd.
The next batter shot one into the outfield and while the other team scrambled, Shaggy headed for home amidst yells of: "Slide! Slide! Down! Down!" because the ball was hot on his heels. He dropped and slid, and immediately I noticed two things: 1) it just didn't look "right," and 2) no one cleared the bat off home plate. I had a moment of Big-Bad-Heinie-Cringe when he, the catcher, and the bat all collided, and then utter outrage when they called him out. The hell he was! (Really. It was close but that boy was Safe.)
When he got up, he took a step and then grimaced and began limping/hopping back to the dugout. Crap. Crap. Crap. I knew it. He'd twisted his ankle... but whether it was when he went down or when he hit that bat, I don't know.
Fast Forward to Monday and a trip to the Orthopedist.
Side note -- yes, we waited until Monday. From vast experience, there is absolutely no sense in sitting in an ER for 6-8 hours to get a crappy x-ray and then be told to go to an Orthopedist where they'll re-shoot you anyhow. It's a total waste of time and I've, Not Once, received a correct diagnosis in doing so (though the drugs are good, on occasion). I had the good drugs so no ER; we were going to wait for the Ortho.
So.... it's not a sprained ankle. Turns out it's a spiral fracture and he ripped a couple of ligaments, namely the one which holds his tibia & fibula together. And that means surgery, screws, and a cast for 8-10 weeks, at least. Baseball season is over for this kiddo and he didn't even get the stinking run. How rotten is that?!
Good news is that he'll be able to play next season. Doc said once it's all treated, he'll be good as new because he's young and his growth plates are still very active. If he were an adult, there would be no more baseball... ever. This is especially good news because he's set on trying out for his High School team next year and has already signed up.
That doesn't do much to alleviate his frustration, though, and we're all teetering between giving him a little Jack Daniels with his Vicodin or taking some of both ourselves. Calling him Hop-A-Long doesn't seem to help much, though it's nice to call someone else by a name I've so often had used on me.
I feel just awful for him but at the same time, he's quickly degenerating into Shaggy the 8th, King of the Couch, and damn it, you'd better get him stuff quick or at the least entertain him already! I told him this morning to "Entertain this." Well, not with my mouth.... I just gave him a triple dose of the stink eye and said, "You'd better be nice or you'll be SOL." But between you and me? If I have to play another game of Battleship, shoot me. Please.
I have an great Interview post coming soon, courtesy of DebR. I've worked on most of it but just don't have time to post right now between MRIs, doc appts, and work. I hope to get it up by the end of the week, however.
Anyhow... that's all in the Land of the Dragonfly. Trying to keep a bright outlook on things and if you have ANY ideas on entertaining a gimpy, incapacitated, miserable, frustrated teenager, pass 'em along! Please! I'm begging!
p.s. forgive any crap editing... I'm being summoned so this is totally on the fly today.
We've been mercilessly working on batting over the past few weeks; an extra day a week with his coach, trips to the batting cages, etc., and this kiddo can RIP the ball when he quits over thinking everything. I prayed he wouldn't over think and just swing. He did, but a little low and popped a foul ball. It was a great swing, though. The next pitch, he swears the pitcher smiled at him just before he Whanged him in the thigh. Instant walk to 1st base. He rubbed his leg just above the knee when he got there but was grinning so the Momma Bear in me relaxed a little. That's baseball. Sometimes you get whacked with the ball (especially by this pitcher who was throwing fast but WILD. Absolutely no freaking control).
The next batter was up. The catcher dropped the ball and Shaggy stole 2nd. Woo hoo!! Rinse and Repeat; he's now on 3rd.
The next batter shot one into the outfield and while the other team scrambled, Shaggy headed for home amidst yells of: "Slide! Slide! Down! Down!" because the ball was hot on his heels. He dropped and slid, and immediately I noticed two things: 1) it just didn't look "right," and 2) no one cleared the bat off home plate. I had a moment of Big-Bad-Heinie-Cringe when he, the catcher, and the bat all collided, and then utter outrage when they called him out. The hell he was! (Really. It was close but that boy was Safe.)
When he got up, he took a step and then grimaced and began limping/hopping back to the dugout. Crap. Crap. Crap. I knew it. He'd twisted his ankle... but whether it was when he went down or when he hit that bat, I don't know.
Fast Forward to Monday and a trip to the Orthopedist.
Side note -- yes, we waited until Monday. From vast experience, there is absolutely no sense in sitting in an ER for 6-8 hours to get a crappy x-ray and then be told to go to an Orthopedist where they'll re-shoot you anyhow. It's a total waste of time and I've, Not Once, received a correct diagnosis in doing so (though the drugs are good, on occasion). I had the good drugs so no ER; we were going to wait for the Ortho.
So.... it's not a sprained ankle. Turns out it's a spiral fracture and he ripped a couple of ligaments, namely the one which holds his tibia & fibula together. And that means surgery, screws, and a cast for 8-10 weeks, at least. Baseball season is over for this kiddo and he didn't even get the stinking run. How rotten is that?!
Good news is that he'll be able to play next season. Doc said once it's all treated, he'll be good as new because he's young and his growth plates are still very active. If he were an adult, there would be no more baseball... ever. This is especially good news because he's set on trying out for his High School team next year and has already signed up.
That doesn't do much to alleviate his frustration, though, and we're all teetering between giving him a little Jack Daniels with his Vicodin or taking some of both ourselves. Calling him Hop-A-Long doesn't seem to help much, though it's nice to call someone else by a name I've so often had used on me.
I feel just awful for him but at the same time, he's quickly degenerating into Shaggy the 8th, King of the Couch, and damn it, you'd better get him stuff quick or at the least entertain him already! I told him this morning to "Entertain this." Well, not with my mouth.... I just gave him a triple dose of the stink eye and said, "You'd better be nice or you'll be SOL." But between you and me? If I have to play another game of Battleship, shoot me. Please.
I have an great Interview post coming soon, courtesy of DebR. I've worked on most of it but just don't have time to post right now between MRIs, doc appts, and work. I hope to get it up by the end of the week, however.
Anyhow... that's all in the Land of the Dragonfly. Trying to keep a bright outlook on things and if you have ANY ideas on entertaining a gimpy, incapacitated, miserable, frustrated teenager, pass 'em along! Please! I'm begging!
p.s. forgive any crap editing... I'm being summoned so this is totally on the fly today.
My nephew decided one day to skateboard off the roof of his house....onto the concrete driveway...in the middle of baseball season no less. One broken ankle (luckily not a neck!) later, baseball season was over. Somehow it turned into a good deal for him, 'cause he got into drums and ended up 1st chair in the high school band.
Send Shaggy my commiserations. And for you too. I have no advice since I've never had to raise boy teens.
Hang in there sis. I will try to come around on my days off and relieve you and him both. As for me, I am feeling better.. I haven't been out of my house in 2 days. Going to work today. See you around.
Katkin - skateboarding off a roof? It's a wonder his mother didn't strangle him. LOL Shaggy thanks you for your commiserations (well, after he looked up 'commiserations' in the dictionary. *grin*).
BabySis - thank you thank you thank you... and your next day off is when???