My son set off on his scooter for his friend’s house in the next village, and I settled in for a peaceful afternoon’s writing.
After just ten minutes, the phone rang. It was my son’s friend. He’d fallen off his scooter, and could I come and fetch him please?
The hill between the two villages is really steep, so although I was hoping he’d just need a hug, I was a bit worried.
It turned out that I was right to worry, too. He’d been cleaned up a bit, but he obviously needed stitches, so off we went to the local hospital.
Thank goodness, we didn’t have to wait. They weren’t all that busy, and with him being a kid, they waved us straight in.
And we knew the nurse! She’s a friend of my nieces’, and she was very kind.
So they injected general anaesthetic round the gouge in his elbow and stitched it up. Then they did the same with the smaller gouge in his chin. Then they cleaned up all the grazes on the other elbow, his hands and his knees. Of course that all took time, and he was over the worst of the shock by the time it was all cleaned and bandaged. Then he went off for X-rays, just in case.
The doctor was almost certain that he hadn’t broken anything, but apparently it’s really had to be completely sure with kids. They have a tendency towards almost invisible hairline fractures, she said. So they strapped up his right arm, just in case.
Then we had to hang around a bit for his discharge papers.
Then we had to hang around a bit to make an appointment for him to see the traumatologist on Friday.
Then we were all hungry and thirsty.
And once I’d got him home, I had to dash out to the supermarket in search of food that could be eaten with only one hand. And then I had to cook it – Herreñan cheese and egg soup actually, and it tasted rather good, though I say it myself. There’s something very comforting about a good soup, and we all needed a bit of comfort.
So you can guess how much writing I got after that lot.