Dave Gifford

12 years and counting

My son Calvin turned 12 on Sunday.   One more year and I will be the proud parent of a teenager.  Wow.  I can still see the little runt sitting in the incubator in the hospital after he was born 7 weeks premature.  All 3 pounds of him.  Now he is on the verge of puberty.  Where did the time go? 

I spent 6 hours on Saturday building him his new basketball hoop.   He discovered me on the side of the house working on it, so the surprise was blown, but at least I got some help finishing it.  As it was it was almost 9 in the evening before we got the last nut tightened and the hoop put in place.  The darkness didn't hinder his enthusiasm for shooting some hoop before he came in for the evening though.  It wasn't that long ago that I was hoping and waiting for my son to take an interest in sports, now he thinks about basketball all the time and it's me who balks when he prods me to come and shoot baskets with him.  I think this is a sign that I must be getting old too.  I guess I should be thankful that his primary "passion" is basketball right now, because I know it will gravitate to other less innocent things in the coming years, namely, girls.  (Shudder) 

The teen years await.  I hope I am ready.  Oh, and Calvin too.

At least it's broken (Part 2)

From the emrgency room to the operating table.   

Calvin had surgery on Monday to correct his finger from rotating out of alignment.  The doctors put in 2 screws. (Pins weren't strong enough to hold the bone together)  Hopefully the screws will keep it in place.  He will need to go back in a few days to remove the splint and screws and possibly have a cast put on.  (Who really knows) 

Calvin did very well.  He hardly flinched when the nurse poked him with the needle for his IV, but he was pretty deadpan when it came to her attempts to make him laugh.  He wasn't having any of that at all.

The thing he was most disturbed about was the beautiful gown he had to wear.  He was pretty upset when I told him the tie in the back was ripped out.  I told him he wouldn't remember being naked anyway, but I'm not sure he appreciated my comment.

After surgery Calvin was convinced he needed to go to Fazoli's for all you can eat pasta (Well of course, he hadn't eaten for 24 hours!?)   Of course he threw up on the way home in the car. 

Well there you have it, I guess the broken finger adventure is over for now, but stay tuned,  cause anything could happen.

At least it's broken

"I'm glad we didn't come down here for nothing", I joked with my son, Calvin.  After spending 3 hours in the emergency room I was (tongue in cheek) happy that Calvin (11) had broken his finger.  It seemed to make the 3 hour experience to the emergency room last Friday worth the trip. 

It started at 5:35 pm when we got a call from Calvin's friend's mom,  "We think Calvin dislocated his finger and he is in a lot of pain."  Promptly, but calmly, I made my way over to their house to take Calvin to the emergency room.  I knew he would be a bit hysterical.  (Calvin's pain threshold is almost nil)  My thoughts were confirmed when I arrived at the Wilson's house.  Calvin was writhing in pain with a frozen bag of mixed vegetables on his hand.  We quickly put him in the car and headed to the hospital.  The drive to the hospital was a bit unnerving because it was very icey and very cold (-2 degrees) and driving with an 11 year old screaming in your ear is a bit distracting.  I kept thinking "just focus on driving, we don't need to have a wreck and make things worse".  Calvin's friend's dad Steve, joined us for the experience, although his jokes weren't doing much to calm Calvin down on what seemed like an endless ride to the hospital.  Once at the hospital we signed in and proceeded to wait....and wait.....and wait.  Eventually, Calvin calmed down. (You can only stay hysterical for so long without getting any attention for it)  I joked later that if he had stayed more hysterical we might have gotten faster service.  As it was, it took more than an hour before we even saw a doctor, and that was after waiting a half hour for someone to come and take an X-Ray.  I'm told this is fairly normal for the emergency room.  I guess I should visit more often. 

Anyway, I was glad when the doctor said it was broken, it seemed to make the trip more worthwhile.