I pulled into the garage around 11:15. I had left the house at 2:45. figure in 45 minutes travel time each direction, and I spent about 7 hours at the hospital last night. a couple of those hours were killed in the emergency room, then we moved down to the operating room waiting area.

when kristopher was little, we spent so much time at various hospitals, that it felt like we should be on a first name basis with the ER staff. over the years, he’s had 6 sets of stitches, 2 broken bones, numerous boogers and bangs, and a hole in his tongue that he could poke his finger through.

at 16 he has outgrown most of his clumsiness. unfortunately, he seems to have replaced it with teenage stupidity.

yesterday, on the way to lunch, he decided to impress his little girlfriend, and I reckon, the other guys who were in the group. they have to cross the courtyard to get to the cafeteria, and in that courtyard are some of these:fence_post.jpgand this kid, in his infinite teenage wisdom, proceeded to jump one. it didn’t matter that it was chest high, nor that he was wearing those stupid baggy nylon shorts that hang past his knees.

so, when the post caught his shorts, and his private area, and he subsequently landed on his ankle, he played it off, like he meant to do that. he was limping into the building when he noticed blood running down his leg.

he went into the restroom and checked himself, and discovered the his scrotum was torn open. from there, events moved pretty quick. the nurse checked it, then called 911. kris called his daddy, who called me and the foster mother, who called the foster father, who left work and went to the school.

when tom got there, the paramedic told him that kris had punctured his testicle and likely broken his ankle. they loaded him up and headed to the hospital.

fast forward >>> the urologist on call explained to us that this wasn’t your ordinary punctured testicle. this was indeed a serious situation. there was a 4 inch gash in his scrotum, which required anesthesia and a bit of surgery to repair.

the doctor said that if the fence had forced it’s way into his body just a fraction of an inch in either direction, it would be a very different story. he could have left there with a colostomy bag, or worse.

thankfully, the ankle was only badly sprained, and the fence chose just the right spot -if there was one- and everything was fixed and mended and on the way to healing. everything except his reputation, I reckon. although, he seemed pretty jazzed that the school security guard gave him the new nickname of steve-o.

I’ll be glad when the teenage idiocy wears off…it will wear off, won’t it?  won’t it?!  sigh