No Time Off for Mother’s Day
May 15, 2012
I broke my own cardinal rule and ran out on to the field when my son was injured.
My 13 yr old son plays on a 7-7 football team, which, for the uninitiated, is pretty much like playing tag. Tag with aggressive, fast, competitive kids. My son and one of his team mates violently collided head-to-head, or more accurately teeth to head. They slammed into each other and both immediately fell in opposite directions onto the ground holding their heads in their hands.* They laid there like that for what seemed an eternity, but in reality was probably less than 5 seconds. Through the sea of legs that surrounded them, I heard my son cry out in pain. If you knew this child, you would know that he is not one to complain about physical injuries. He has broken his finger, taped it up himself on the sideline and continued on. He dislocated his shoulder, popped it back in himself and continued on. So this was unusual.
And so I ran across the field to where he was on the ground. I pried his hands away and looked in his mouth. At this point all I saw was blood and what appeared to be a deep gash inside his lip from his braces. I wasn’t all that worried. As I walked him across the field he started saying, “My teeth, Mom. My teeth.” I sat him down on the sideline and took a better look in his mouth. The four bottom front teeth were pushed back, like they were all leaning backward, and one of them was pushed so far back that the root was coming through the front of the gum. It was horrifying on so many levels.
Immediately I gathered up all of our stuff, my kids and the extra kids I had brought. One of the moms thrust an icepack into my hand. (I don’t even know who it was, but thank you! Also I need to be more prepared.) I think I was driving on autopilot, trying to stay calm and make sure everyone else was calm. My son was in so much pain that he was shaking, though it didn’t stop him from turning around and (playfully) punching his girlfriend when a VW bug drove by us. It made us all laugh because it is so typical of his personality.
We lucked out at the emergency room and it was completely empty when we arrived. We were taken right back into a room. They gave him some heavy duty pain medication. And then he felt well enough to respond to the many, many texts he was already receiving, as well as texting me. His mouth was so swollen he couldn’t talk. The doctor came in and examined him. He needed stitches (5 or 6 of them, I’m really not sure) and we would need to see the orthodontist about his teeth. He felt confident about the viability of three of the teeth. I would have preferred to hear better news.
I wrote the above two days ago, on Mother’s Day.
Yesterday I brought him to the orthodontist, who pushed the teeth back into place, replaced the broken brackets, and put in a new wire. X-rays showed no obvious root fractures, so it looks like all of the teeth might just make it. I believe the orthodontist’s words were extremely confident they would be just fine, though I guess it can a while for nerve damage to show. I’ll take that. He also said that the braces are what saved his teeth from being completely knocked out.
My daughter made me a book for Mother’s Day. Full of all the reasons she loves me. There was one page that I found disturbing. It was a picture of me with the caption: My Mom Doing One of Her Favorite Things.
I swear I only go there for the cheap snacks.
*The other boy also went to the ER with a giant lump on his head and a suspected concussion.