
10pm: Phone rings. I know something is wrong right away 'cause hubby took son to the 2nd hockey practice of the season ... and calls after 9pm always equal bad news.
I pick up, it's hubby.
"What's wrong" I say.
"Uhm, we need to go to the emergency room, TYM hurt his wrist" is the answer.
Now for those who don't know my hubby ... he's not a panicy fellow. If he thinks it's time for the ER ... it's not good.
So now, I'm stuck home waiting and waiting. Because we all know that weekend nights are the WORST times at the ER ... it'll be tomorrow before I find out what happend and how he is!
This is the second ER visit in his life and both times are related to hockey ... why the devil, does he need to play this sport????? OK panicy, paranoid Mommy is taking over. I'll go play some Sudoku to try and cool off.
I'll update when I find out what happend, probably tomorrow.
Update 1:45am ... I couldn't wait any longer so I called hubby. The boy has a broken wrist, my poor baby. First it's the clavicle, now the wrist. I guess he's all bandaged up now but hubby doesn't think they'll be home for at least an other hour. Darn ER rooms on weekend nights ... the poor guys are soooooo exhausted!
External Influence: Sherlock Holmes Mood: distraught