Tarzan he ain’t.

Nope, George of the Jungle crashed into trees as often as he swung from them. Perhaps one of the reasons we love cartoons so much is that they can do almost anything and survive (except for Judge Doom’s invention - Dip) – but of course, we’re not cartoons…and we’re not even in live-action movies made based on them. [Wow, this allows me to not only show Brendan Fraser (almost all of his movies are pure fun) but also Jessica Rabbit!]

All of this toon-based-fun is a preamble to something quite the opposite.

What a horrible feeling. Watching my 25 year-old son swing on a dead tree limb (it was hanging down like a rope) – because he had tried to pull it down and while doing so, found that he could swing to-and-fro on it. Starting from a stand still, he propelled himself off the tree trunk, pushing off with his legs and gaining altitude. He’d swing back toward the tree, cushion the impact with his legs, and push off again, changing direction. Soon after that he swung in a perpendicular arc…and as he reached the apex, the limb finally came free.

Unfortunately, he did a Joe Theisman landing (I purposefully chose not to use those photos). Breaking both bones in his left leg, just above the joint where it meets his foot.

Being a dutiful father, I didn’t laugh. I went to his aid. He was gingerly holding his leg, up by his knee (which he brought in front of him). I looked at the way his foot was laying askew, and told him I thought it was broken. He agreed.

We packed him into the van for the 5 minute ride to the emergency room.

Luck was on our side (the good kind…he had just had his fill of the bad kind). The emergency room was empty. He was seen immediately. Yup. Broken. Surgery at the earliest would be Tuesday to put some hardware in.

After searching for a good specialist – his near-uncle Tim recommended an Orthopedic (bone) surgeon in Saginaw. Well, actually, he asked this doctor if he knew of any good ones in South Bend area…but he didn’t. Also we weren’t sure my son’s insurance would be accepted “across the border.”

The doc in Saginaw suggested we send the x-rays (isn’t technology great?) so I downloaded them from the CD the ER gave us, and sent them via email to both Tim and the Doc. The doc offered to take care of it the next day (Monday).

ROADTRIP!

We shacked up at his Grandparents and waited for a call to see what time to get to the hospital. The call came in the morning, telling us to be there at noon. Tim came to St. Charles and led us to his hospital (he’s an ER doctor there). It was then that I had a flash-back to the military. Not because of the broken bones, the hospital smells (actually this place was very clean, wood floors in the rooms, and nice smiling people), but because of what every good military person knows about appointments. “Hurry Up and Wait.”

And wait.

7 PM he was finally wheeled into the OR preparatory room. About a half hour later he was taken to the operating room. Finally, I got to go eat. Of course it was worse for my son who wasn’t allowed to eat since midnight the night before. I at least had some breakfast. Tim and I shared a dinner at McDonald’s. Then back to waiting. After an hour or so, he was in recovery.

So, here I am on Tuesday (the day after) waiting (I already hurried up) to see if they will release him today or if I have to spend another night at the Grandparents and take him home tomorrow. I can deal with either. Love the grandparents. Miss wife and other kids. And my son is going through a LOT worse than I (basically I’m just waiting a lot).

Funny how much it hurts. Not physically of course – my son has the market on that…and the corner store on pain meds. No, I mean psychological. Of course, I could have told him to stop swinging on the dead branch. I could have told him it was a bad idea. I understand now how onlookers (and videographers) can stand by watching while young people produce new stupid stunts for “Jackass.” I did have the fleeting thought, “I’m sure he realizes it may break at any time and that he will fall to the ground. I’m sure he’s ready for it and will fall on his butt…”

No, none of that causes me pain. The pain is just from worrying how well he’ll recover. How his trip to Europe has to be postponed. How much all of this will cost him (his deductible and co-pay is very high – where is O’Bama’s health plan?). How he won’t be playing sports for a few months…and I worry that he won’t be as able as before.

Then again, I keep reminding myself that God has plans we don’t understand. And if this isn’t part of His plan, He can still use this circumstance to some good. It’s not what happens to you that defines you, it’s how you react. So far my son has reacted with strength, resolve, and a positive attitude.

I’m not surprised that he got here (although I was sure it would have been his buddy that would have done it) and I’m very proud of him for how he’s dealing with the situation.

Thanks to all of you for your prayers, concerns, and support. He’s been facebooking as much as possible…something about one-upping his uncle’s motorcycle accident.

Thanks to Tim especially for the referral, advice, and sitting with us all day on Monday. Thanks to the Grandparents for boarding, compassion, and food. Thanks to Dan for the advice. Thanks to Missy for the cookies. Thanks to Scott and Tara for helping, spending time with the Tarzan-wanabee, and driving him home.

Thanks to all of you.

It really is times of crisis that we are reminded of what friendship is all about.