Wednesday, 14 November 2012


Yesterday my oldest was picked up from school because he got the butt end of a hockey stick in the eye and the school wanted us to take him to the doctor to get checked because his pupil wasn't dialting properly. What you must know is that with 3 boys we have been to the doctors NUMEROUS times for one thing or another! Needless to say I was not too worried, but thought that this was gonna give him a black eye at most.  Once we were at the clinic, the doctor proceeded to do a bunch of tests, checking for this or that. Cole was complaining that his eye was stinging and that now things were getting blurry. The doc continued to check for stuff.  He put drops in his eye that made it sting more, swabbed it, plus numerous other things.  Then he told us that we needed to go to the hospital because he couldn't see his eye properly and they needed to give him some drops in his eye that they didn't have at the clinic.

As we were walking across the parking lot to the hospital I actually started to worry. Really worry. I thought "what if something is actually wrong"?  At this same moment Cole starts to tell me that he can't see properly and I told him that it was all okay and that anything that could be wrong would be fixed and that nothing would be permanent.  This was not only reassurring for him but for myself as well.  I had a brief moment of actual worry. What if it had been worse?  What if he lost sight in his eye because of some freak accident?  And in that moment I realized that I would take any sickness if it meant that my kids would never have to go through any kind of serious trauma. It was good to have a moment where everything was put into perspective. 

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