Had to go to the hospital yesterday.
Not to get Fred's medical opinion for one of the kids.
See, James got a dirt bike yesterday. Fred was in the backyard, teaching him how to use it. James was having trouble shifting out of first gear without the bike stalling, so Fred in his infinite wisdom decided to give him a lesson in how to safely shift gears.
No sooner did the sage hop on the bike and get the speed up slightly to shift, then he let the clutch out too fast and popped a wheelie.
I said Fred popped a wheelie.
Yes, that's right.
And the bike went right on over and landed on the ground, pinning Fred's leg beneath it.
He needed help from the kids to get up (I was on my way home from picking Daniel up from school). He needed help to get back to the house b/c he couldn't walk. Got help changing from jeans to shorts (by this time I was home) and saw that the calf muscle on his left leg was hugely swollen and hard as a rock.
And he was in serious pain.
Took him to the hospital where we got him into a wheelchair and escorted him up to his partner's office (no ER slummin' for this doc).
There he got the fun of having all the residents parade on through this tiny office to confirm what they had heard: Boss was in a wheelchair.
We should have strung balloons and streamers from the IV pole of the w/c to make things more festive.
Anyway, Fred will be OK. Nothing's broken. He has a torn gastrocnemius (the aforementioned calf muscle). He needs to keep off his feet, keep the leg elevated, walk with crutches, and use this fancy-schmancy cooling ice pump to reduce the swelling. He's on some hard-hitting pain meds, so he's good. All the docs figured out coverage for the surgeries he already had scheduled and for ICU rounds.
So for now Fred just has to lie back, take it easy, take his meds and keep his leg up while he recovers
FROM HIS DIRT BIKE INJURY.
And you thought I was the crazy one.....