When the unexpected happens

So, it has been a month since I last posted a blog entry. Time flies when you’re having fun a lot of things are happening. 

If I can remember correctly, my last blog was about my son’s short visit from college. Yey, good times! Though unplanned, and truly short (it was only five days long), it was a fun reunion with the family. 

After that Quarter Break in September, the plan was for me and my husband to fly to Singapore to attend the College’s Parents’ Orientation Weekend from Oct. 13-15. I was really looking forward to that trip. For one, we would see the unico again after only three weeks — no chance to miss him too much, right?

Also, well, I love Singapore. The flight is just 3 1/2 hours, so it’s bearable. The country is safe, it’s not polluted, the commute is easy. I can go places by myself and not get scared out of my wits. Then there’s Sephora and Victoria’s Secret (aren’t these good enough reasons to be excited??!).

And of course we go back to the fact that my son goes to college there — so yes, I was looking forward to the trip.  So I booked our flights early, even decided to extend our stay for a couple more days (for shopping, what else?!).

Three days before our scheduled departure, I received a message from my son saying he had an accident in his dorm. His foot and leg went numb while he was walking, he had a bad fall… and he broke a toe.

Yes, he broke one of the little piggies — to be more specific, the one who didn’t go to market, nor stayed home, nor had roast beef. It was the little piggy who had none (the ring toe). 

If you can’t imagine how he broke it nor how it looked broken, well, you are not alone. I couldn’t imagine it at first either. In fact, when I called him up to check on him, I was even quite cool and dismissive, I told him that the hospital will probably just pop it right back — like what people normally do with dislocated shoulders or knees.

We respond to accidents differently. On hindsight, I believe I was cool and not panicking because I was a thousand miles away and I couldn’t see the extent of the injury. Plus, when I was talking to him, I couldn’t quite tell if he was crying or laughing. Mom, I broke my toe!! *giggle*giggle*giggle* ” And I could hear laughter in the background, as well. Apparently it was one of his room mates who was making my son laugh to keep him from passing out. (When I saw a photo of the broken toe, I thought I was going to pass out.)

My son’s dorm mates had the presence of mind to call an ambulance right away. One of them placed pillows under my son’s leg to keep it elevated. And despite the scary, icky sight of his broken toe, they kept him conscious and alert. God bless them for being there!

The ambulance came right away. He was brought to the emergency room of the nearby hospital. And then we didn’t hear from him for quite sometime. At this point I surmised that the doctors were cleaning the wound… or popping the bone back in. 

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Do you see the fourth little piggy? Of course you don’t… because it’s bent. 😦 I have a photo of the broken toe, but I will spare you. Believe me it’s not a sight to behold. 

When we finally got to talk to someone from the hospital, we were told that the bone cannot be just popped back in (actually they tried, but it was much too painful and it didn’t really work). So my son had to undergo surgery. Right away. That same afternoon. 

The doctors will have to put a wire to straighten the bone again and correct the alignment. And they had to stitch the open wound up. Everything had to be done in a rush also to prevent infection.

And so my son had to undergo surgery, in another country, without us there beside him. 

Thank God he had such great dorm mates and friends who waited for him at the hospital. Thank God for our Singaporean friends who rushed to the hospital the moment we informed them about the accident.  

Patient B32

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Not at all related to B1 or B2

After about three hours, my son was awake, and back from surgery and recovery room.

He was able to text and update us. Told us he was asleep the whole time, and that when he woke up, his toe was already all stitched up, with a wire holding it straight. He was to stay in the hospital for the time being so the doctors can monitor him, xray his toe and check the outcome.

At this point we all decided there’s no need anymore to rebook our flight to an earlier day since the surgery was over anyway. We told him to just rest and relax in the hospital and that we will go straight to him the moment we arrive on Friday morning. 

The following day — which was a Wednesday — we were told that the xray showed that although there’s already a wire, the bone was still not perfectly aligned. The doctor explained to my son that they could leave the wire as is, but the bone will still be a little crooked when it heals and there’s a risk of the joints experiencing some pain eventually. So my son was given an option to have another surgery, this time a ‘not rushed’ one, to fix the bone properly. The hospital called in their best orthopedic and trauma surgeon to do it. 

My son being 18 decided for himself. He said he opted to have the toe fixed. Yup, that very day. And we were a thousand miles away still.

Two surgeries in two days. How’s that for independence and adulting?

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Post 2nd surgery. Little piggy has a wire sticking out. 

To say that I don’t feel bad for not being there for him from the moment of the accident to the surgeries (both of them) will be an understatement. For a mom who prides herself on being “always there” during important moments, well, this time I wasn’t there. I couldn’t be there. 

Yet I believe that the accident showed my son’s independence. It gave him the chance to make mature decisions. It made him decide on certain matters that concerned his physical well-being.

It gave him a taste of the real world — a world where mom and dad are not always there to make things easy. 

I can say he was able to hold his own pretty well while we were still away. I couldn’t be more proud. 

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Welcome to adulthood. 

We arrived in Singapore –and the hospital — Friday morning, as originally planned. 🙂 

❤ ❤

More stories to tell… About the accident, our visit, and our extended stay. Do stay tuned! 

 

photo credits: Most of the photos were sent to us by my son…Because truly, why wouldn’t one want to document something as exciting as this?! 😉 

 

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The Saturday that was

heat glamour

Fantasy.

Saturday afternoon

So here I am, at 2:00 in the afternoon, standing in the middle of a field, basking under the summer sun… watching a baseball game.

It was a hot day. Scorching hot.  The ground was dry. So very dry. Whenever the wind blows, dust was sure to go with it.

I could feel the dust on my face, covering the layers of sunblock that I put several hours before.

I looked at my feet.  My black sandals have already turned brown.  I could feel my feet burning. Why-oh-why didn’t I wear rubber shoes instead??

“Why am I  here??”  I asked myself for the umpteenth time. 

I have been on the field since 8 o’clock this morning. This is already the fourth baseball game that I have watched and cheered for today.

The team is losing.  It’s losing pretty badly.

Three teams. Four games.  Three losses so far.  It has been a tough, not to mention, extremely hot day.  And my teams are losing.

My son isn’t even playing with any of the teams.  So, why am I even here???

heat

Reality.

***

Truth be told, I miss watching my son play baseball.  

Baseball has been his sport since he was 8 years old. He used to play golf before that, but the moment my husband introduced him to the sport of baseball — the moment he realized that he would gain more friends there, he kissed his (expensive) golf clubs, as well as his Jungolf championship dreams, goodbye.  There was no turning back.

And so for about 7 years, our weekends were filled with baseball games.  He has joined local tournaments, he has played in Asia Pacific Championships here and abroad, he has played with and against some of the very best youth baseball players from all over the region.

I have watched and cheered under the scorching heat, as well as in the pouring rain. I have experienced with him and his teammates the joys of victory, as well as the pain and disappointment that come with losing. I have gained new friends… I have made a number of enemies, too.   

Baseball is filled with moments, both good and bad. 

When my son decided to “semi-retire” from the sport… When he decided to pursue other interests (like singing, performing and yes, studying some more)… well, baseball pretty much took a back seat. 

I was in a way thankful that he decided to pursue other things. I mean, I do loathe staying under the sun for a long time.  And waking up at such ungodly hours to watch early morning games can sometimes drive one nuts — especially on a Sunday when you’d rather sleep in until noon. 

But honestly, I do miss watching him play.  I miss the thrill. I miss the excitement. Though some games can be very stressful, well, I sometimes miss the stress, too! (Sometimes I cheer like a maniac that my husband gives me dagger looks.)

Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine myself being so involved in a sport. For some reason, baseball got to me. 

The universe has a sense of humor.

***

Last Saturday, three teams from our baseball club competed in a tournament. Three sets of players from three different divisions. The boys whom I watched training all summer long were given the chance to play against other teams.

Nope, they didn’t win all the games. In fact, they lost quite a number of times. Not one of the three teams brought home a medal nor a trophy.  The old me would have been disheartened and heartbroken.  No one likes losing.  

But after being a witness to all those games that my son has played… I have come to realize and accept that the players learn from both winning and losing.  

Losing isn’t always bad. Sometimes you have to lose so you’ll know what needs to be worked on. Sometimes you lose not because you are not good, but maybe because the other team prepared as hard as you did — or even harder.

But when you lose, lose with grace. Unfortunately, this is something that a lot of people, especially the adults, forget. 

Besides, baseball is a game of moments.  Each player somewhere, somehow gets to experience a moment… a moment that is his to learn from, his to remember and to savor. His moment on the field.

A winning catch. A double play. A home run. A successful slide. An almost impossible tag. One defining moment.  

These moments make the long hours under the sun worthwhile.

I was but a mere spectator that Saturday, yet I am glad I stayed and watched. Dust powdered face and all. 🙂

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Pitcher-Catcher moment

*****

photo credits: summer heat photos via google images ; Pitcher-Catcher moment photo from my ever reliable SLR (Taken in 2014 at the PONY Asia Pacific Tournament, Pony Division) 

Life’s Journey

Sometimes you feel like you are all alone in your journey through life…

… and then you realize there are others on the same road with you 

… more than you expected… 

Sometimes you catch up… but then you start thinking that the others are still much better off…

Sometimes it feels like life is just passing you by…

Or you’re going the wrong direction… 

At times the journey gets so confusing…

 You are given different options and you have to choose well.

Or you see a winding road ahead…

Sometimes you simply just need to stop for  while… 

Time and again I have heard people say that it is not always about the destination… it is about the journey.  

So live it, learn from it, enjoy each moment to the fullest.

Take it all in.

It’s all worth the ride. 

***

“Life is a highway, I wanna ride it all night long…”

– Rascal Flatts, Disney movie Cars

*****

*all photos are from my own GE digital camera, taken during my last visit to the USA (March-April 2011)