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Full House

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Mother guilt is horrible when it’s intensified by hindsight. And it’s even worse when it hits in the emergency room and you realize you should have listened harder to your 13-year-old — the same son who drives you crazy when he won’t listen to a thing you say.

My adventure with Luke started off innocently enough as we prepared to leave for a weekend basketball tournament in Hutchinson. He’d finally gotten his braces on — both top and bottom — the Monday before our Friday departure. He’d weathered the aches and pain with a minimum of fuss and finally was feeling fine.

On Wednesday, he started talking about getting a mouthpiece to wear.

I swear I looked at mouthpieces on Friday at Mike’s while grabbing a pair of gray baseball pants for Aaron’s All-Star team games that night. (As usual, we were splitting our household — Luke, Alex and I in Hutch while Greg and Aaron traveled to Pomona.)

But the mouthpiece that Mike’s had was too small for Luke. As a solution, Luke suggested that he’d use the wax his orthodontist gave him to cover the brackets and protect the inside of his mouth.

But Luke forgot to do it — and I didn’t remind him.

Instead, he played two games that Friday night. He played a third game Saturday morning and a fourth on Saturday afternoon.

Meanwhile, Alex’s team had started playing and I was driving back and forth between the Hutchinson seventh-grade building and Hutchinson High School. Luke’s gym ran early, so I arrived at the 9 p.m. game at 9:05 p.m. Saturday night. There were three minutes left in half-time. Alex and I settled in to watch.

About 1:30 into the second half and I’d looked away.

“Luke just took a hit to his braces again,” Tracey told me.

The other blow happened during an earlier game and did no real damage.

This time, however, it was worse. As I looked down from the bleachers, Luke came off the court, raising his head for his coach to see. Duane immediately caught my eye and motioned me down. That never happens. I sprinted across the court.

Later, Tracey told me that she’d watched Luke from the minute his teammate’s elbow hit him as they both hustled for a rebound. Luke, Tracey said, put his hand up to his mouth, pulled it back and looked at it, then put it back on his mouth as his face went white and he started shaking.

I know blood wouldn’t shake him like that. Instead, we both assume that’s when he realized he couldn’t move his upper lip.

While the middle of his upper lip was cut by his two front brackets (that was the bleeding), farther inside his lip and over to the right, his lip was wrapped around the bracket on his eyetooth.

I got Luke to the bathroom as Tracey got a bag of ice. Luke quickly calmed down and I explained to him that it looked as if he’d need to take hold of his lip, pull it straight out then up. (I admit, I was too squeamish to try it.)

At that point, a mother from the opposing team came in. She introduced herself as a nurse and asked if I’d like her to look at Luke’s injury. No real question there.

She took one look and suggested I take him to the hospital.

“OK,” I said. “Where’s the hospital?”

An hour and a half later, with pre-approval from the Medical Arts nursing service and plenty of local anesthetic, Luke’s lip was free and we headed for our hotel with Luke convinced he’d never go for a rebound again.

After a dose of ibuprofen and a pint of ice cream, he slept like a baby. The next morning, he showed off his fat lip to anyone who wanted to see it (including a referee who asked about him). Then he showed off the wax mouthguard he’d fashioned.

For the first few minutes of the game, Luke was hesitant to go after loose balls. Then instinct kicked in and he was back in the thick of things.

Of course, he continued to remind me that I should have gotten him a mouthguard. And, yes, this time, my 13-year-old knows best.

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madpoet (anonymous) says...

I'm glad you're a big enough person to admit you've goofed. We've all done it! That's a cute story that you can trot out when he's old enough to date and embarrass him to death with. :)

July 22, 2008 at 3:31 p.m. ( | suggest removal )

jayhawker (anonymous) says...

What I got from the story was Luke's courage and determination in fully participating in the game despite the risks associated with doing so. That kid will go far. That's the kind of person that you want on your team, in sports or in life. Was he the same child that broke both arms in 2002, Gwen?

July 23, 2008 at 12:46 a.m. ( | suggest removal )

glarson (Gwen Larson) says...

Jayhawker,

Yes, Luke is the Larson boy who fell out of the maple tree and broke both arms. Here are the current stats for our household:

3 boys
3 trips to ER
1 boy (Luke) the patient in all three trips (although his older brother helped cause the first trip -- pushing him down, he cut his head and ended up with a a staple in it.)

Gwen

July 23, 2008 at 8 a.m. ( | suggest removal )

jayhawker (anonymous) says...

Look at the bright side - if he has another emergency, they will know him by first name at the Emergency Room. Boys and injuries go together.

July 23, 2008 at 9:34 a.m. ( | suggest removal )

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