A week ago yesterday my family had their belated Christmas gathering at my parents' house.
Of course there was food:
Honey-glazed, spiral-cut, gen-yoo-ine Virginia hams
My sister Anne's lovely fruit tray
And gifts:
SIL Jenny enjoying some of her gifts
And the traditional family touch football game in my parents' backyard:
Preparing to scramble....
We've held this informal football game at least once a year, weather-permitting, for almost 30 years now, with never more than a few scratches, some bruises and sore muscles to show for the effort.
Until last Wednesday.
My BIL George, (dark hair, in Redskins sweatshirt with arm outstretched on far left of above photo), completed a pass to one of his teammates and next thing we knew, he was on the ground screaming at an octave no man should be able to reach. He had slid down the hill and heard three pops in his left ankle, and my brother Pat confirmed that it sounded like "crunch". Ugh. An ambulance and paramedics came, splinted the leg, gave him three doses of morphine, (which did nothing for his pain), and took him to the E.R., where the ankle was x-rayed and wrapped, and they were then sent back to my parents house for the night. My brother Tommy took pictures of all the ambulance/paramedic happenings, but is wisely holding off on sharing them for the time being. I may post one at some point in the future.
All of this sure put a damper on our Christmas gathering!
Anne, George & the girls drove home to Lynchburg the next day and he saw an orthopedist the following day, who scheduled surgery for today. They've had a rough week - George doesn't do well with pain meds and the one he's been on this week causes him to be anxious and claustrophobic. They're at the hospital as I type this, waiting to be worked into the inpatient surgery schedule. Seems the outpatient anaesthesiologist stood up to the orthopedist and insisted earlier today that the surgery be inpatient, due to George's apparent resistance to and side-effects from pain meds. Thank God for small blessings!
I spoke to them while they were waiting, and George was in good (drug-induced) spirits, joking that he was bequeathing all his left shoes to me and that if he saw a bright light during surgery he wouldn't be coming back. Nice to hear him relaxed, after all this.
I'll be giving Anne a call in a few hours for an update. Here's hoping that by then George'll have had his surgery and will be recovering comfortably.
I'm just glad the holidays are over!
[Edited later to add the following photos]:
man down*
thumbs up as he's carted away*
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