Whack-A-Mole

Friday I am sitting at home, working on some assignments for my evening class. Debbie calls from work to alert me to a call she received from the Pavilions, where Jack is in daycare. While walking/running he tripped and cracked his head on the rocking chair in the room he spends two days a week. A nurse checked him out immediately but left taking him into the ER up to us. The very fact that it was even mentioned spurred us to take him the 300 feet from the day care to the hospital. I had the camera as Debbie was going to drive to Lovells after work Friday.
Here we are outside of the Pavilions. You can see a bit of the contusion, but the goose egg(which was the size of a walnut) just did not photograph.
The emergency room, yesterday.

I wish I was not in this photo, but for those keeping score at home I appear to be turning into my Dad.

90 minutes later we were in a room. This new ER opened around the time Jack was born last year. It is beautiful, cavernous and modern. I wonder if ours was a room for the young as the mural on the wall doesn't seem the type of thing you would respond to if three of your fingers were chopped off in a sheet metal press.

Is that...what I think it is?

Dad, this looks like a remote.


By jove, it IS a remote!

Look mama! A remote!


Let's see what is on right now...wait a second...is that?

BIG BIRD!


No? Bea Arthur? The difference being what?



In our time in the room Jack managed to page the nurses twice, spill water on himself and laugh and smile when they shone a light into his eyes to scan for pupil wackiness.
We were discharged and I set Jack and his shrinking swelling into the car, drove him home, fed him and saw him off as Debbie drove to Lovells for a weekend jaunt. I drove to class 90 minutes late. Last I heard all was well.