Mom, I’m Not An Idiot

I confess we were a wee bit excited when the darling twins got their orders for Annual Training for the Army National Guard. With just 4 days notice they were off to Ft. Stewart in Savannah for 20 days in July.

Rachel came downstairs to act like a goober model her new gear – helmet, eye pros and IBA (interceptor body armor) that she would be wearing as an ammo guard at the training site on post. I wasn’t crazy about this but it’s not like I have a say in any of this.

I worry. It’s my job. I’m good at it.

PhilBillPaul and I were looking forward to a little bit of calm in the chaos that is our life with 3 now twenty-somethings and a 12 year-old. Fewer messes, less noise, quiet evenings. We like to miss them.

They arrived on late Thursday afternoon and at about 9:00 p.m. the same night, I got a phone call that Rachel was hurt. I could barely understand Elizabeth as she tried to tell me what happened.

Lucky for you blog readers, I have re-enactment pictures.

Along with the actual injury site.

Text from Rachel the next day. “This is the bunk I face dove off of”

Our tough Soldier fell out of her bunk bed

And she was awake.

Re-enactment photo #1

Top bunk which she also sleeps in at school in the cadet dorms.

Re-enactment photo #2

Her foot somehow got caught as she was swinging herself out of the bed.

Re-enactment photo #3

She caught herself with her left palm taking the brunt of the impact but most certainly avoiding obvious head injury from concrete floor.

Elizabeth said she couldn’t balance on just one hand. Glad she didn’t try or we’d have a 2nd injury I’m sure.

Re-enactment photo #4

Thankfully I pressured Elizabeth into taking these photos because I told her it was very hard to explain to people how this happened.

When she called, Elizabeth was laughing so hard which is why I couldn’t understand her. Because we all have inherited this sick trait where we laugh hysterically when someone falls.

Please understand this is our “circus baby/tough nut” child who is very coordinated, athletic and makes everything look easy. She masters anything she sets out to do.

Elizabeth is the one who is a bit clumsy. Falls, trips, has lots of bruises and bad luck (remember the golf ball incident x2?). She did not miss the humor of witnessing her darling twin fall out of bed before their job even started.

Rachel soon learned that having your twin in the same unit has its benefits. The next morning Elizabeth was there to fasten her pants, button her blouse, help her with her boots and put her hair in a bun.

They put her in a sling. An x-ray the next morning at the hospital with a follow-up visit scheduled for SIX days later.

Her pain threshold is abnormally high but I knew she was in pain. I aslo knew from her darling twin sister that she didn’t take the horse pills 800 mg ibuprofen the medic gave her the night before because very much like her delicate father, she can’t swallow big pills.

She was mildly irritated with all my questions. I was worried about further damage. My most favorite line from her during our first call after the hospital visit…

“Mom, I’m not a an idiot.”

Really? Didn’t you just fall out of your bed last night?

They gave her tramadol which she took in the afternoon and then experienced a migraine (inherited from her mother – so sorry) that scared them enough to drive back to the hospital. Upon arrival she insisted on going back to the barracks, threw up, took a nap and recovered enough to have dinner.

On the follow-up visit, another doctor released her for duty without examining her thoroughly or reviewing her x-rays – of course, that’s just my opinion.

The next week she went to the hospital with another Soldier to pick up her records and the original doctor asked why she thought she was cleared for duty. He said she should not have been released and they needed to do a cat scan on her arm. She scheduled that for Friday and headed home on Tuesday. No word on cat scan results.

I’m told that they would call if anything was wrong. I wish that made me feel better but it doesn’t.

She’s back home and packing to go back to college.

I’m working on my control issues and letting go. Even when they are hurt.

The mom gig is still difficult no matter how old they are.


One year ago..

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  1. 1
    ~julie says:

    I’m with you on the control thing. That has been the hardest part of having my 6’2″ baby @ basic training—all the not knowing.