Well, it seems that my life never stays quiet for long.  If it's not one thing, it's always going to be another.  My latest heart stopper happened last night and involved my youngest son. Yes, he took another trip to the emergency room.  A few days ago, and against my better advice, Nick decided to buy himself a brand new motorcycle.  Now, I have nothing against motorcycles.  They are economical and easily maneuverable and look cool as all hell.  Yes, the perfect vehicle for a 22 year old young man out to make his mark on the world and look cool while doing it.  Quite a heart stopper and great for impressing potential dates.  At least that was his logic when he was trying very hard to convince me that buying the thing was a great idea.   I remembered back to my younger, single days and smiled when I thought of the various 'bad boys' that turned my head while roaring past on their motorcycles.  Of course, I didn't tell him any of this.  My checkered past is not something that I want to discuss with my son. 

So, he buys the motorcycle and yes, it's a beauty.  A red Ninja 650 or something like that, it was red and had the words Ninja across it.  He did listen to me and bought the matching helmet and a very nice red and black leather motorcycle jacket.  The jacket is the kind that is thick enough and protective enough that when you hit the ground in it you won't leave most of your skin on the pavement.  So, I was able to quell the butterflies in my stomach somewhat with that knowledge.  He also always wore the helmet while riding, another bit of common sense in his favor. 

I was trying to write yesterday evening, after spending the day out with my houseguest - another nightmare of a story - and needed to settle my frayed nerves.  My cure for my aggravation is to settle in with my laptop and write away.  It was around 9:00 PM and my dog started barking.  I looked out the window and saw headlights coming up the drive.  At first I thought it was my son, Nick, and thought 'oh good, he's home.'  I quickly saw that it was 2 headlights and not a single motorcycle headlamp.  Yes, my brow knitted in concern, most unusual - I wasn't expecting visitors at this late hour.  The vehicle pulled up to the house and I saw that it was a pickup truck with two men in it whom I didn't recognize.  My husband came up behind me and, after seeing that it was strangers, went out to greet them.  The driver got out of the truck and asked if we had a son named Nick, my husband said yes, and the driver went on to explain that he had been involved in an accident and where.  The strangers were quickly thanked for their kindness in letting us know and I was running for my purse and shoes. 

The truck was out of our driveway and my husband and I were on our way to the accident scene.  I let my husband drive, I would have probably gotten a ticket for speeding had I driven.  We arrived at the scene to see flashing lights and rescue units and highway patrol officers and all of the heart stopping mess.  We pulled over and I jumped out to find my boy.  I didn't see the ambulance and asked the first rescue unit worker I saw where my son was.  He was directing traffic and asked me if I was his mother.  I shook my head yes and he told me that he had already been taken to the hospital by ambulance.  "Which hospital," I asked him.  When he indicated that he didn't know, I turned to my husband and asked him to please find out from the police officers - they would know for the reports that I knew they would have to work on. 

I stayed with the young man directing traffic and asked if he had seen my son.  The young man assured me that Nick was awake and talking coherently when he was taken to the hospital.  There was no head injury or any apparent broken bones, the bike got the worst of the damage.  It seems that he had swerved to miss a deer that had run out in front of him.  The curvy back road hadn't helped any and he wound up laying the motorcycle down in the grass doing 40 MPH.  "Ma'am, I think he's going to be fine - barring any internal injuries.  That's why he was taken to the hospital for tests to make sure he didn't rupture his spleen or anything.  It's a common injury for motorcycle accidents."  I thanked him for the information and went back to my car, waiting for my husband to get back so that we could go.  Yes, I was getting impatient and wanted to be with my boy.  I stood by the car and impatiently waited, and waited, and waited.

I finally ran an impatient hand through my hair and sat down in the car, my knees were shaking just a bit.  I pulled my hair back and into a clip, and lit a cigarette.  Knowing how talkative these country cops were I settled in and tried very hard not to let my anxiety get the better of me.  By the time I had finished the cigarette my temper was on edge and I just wanted to go.  I got back out of the car and looked through the darkness and flashing lights for my husband.  I finally found him, walking back towards the car.  After a brief exchange we headed towards the correct hospital. 

We arrived at the hospital and were taken in to my son's room.  He was still in X-Ray so we waited and I paced the floor.  Waiting like that has never been a trait that I have ever had.  A friend of mine once described me similar to a mother grizzly bear, content until roused and then all hell breaks loose.  A rather accurate description I'm afraid.  Nick was wheeled back into the room within the hour and I had a chance to see him, touch him for myself.  He was still in a neck brace and couldn't sit up, too many wires and tubes running out of him.  But he was awake and talking and as I bent over him and stroked his brow he gave me a wry smile.  I didn't start fussing at him, at least not right away, I recognized the pain in his eyes.  We waited together until the test results came back and the doctor came in to speak with us.  As soon as the words "no internal damage" left the doctor's mouth I let out an audible sigh of relief.  Yes the boy had a few cracked and bruised ribs, some road rash on his one arm but he was alright and in no danger.  I was grateful and more than ready to get out of there.  I thanked the doctor and we finished up with the final paperwork and waited for the nurse to come in and remove the IV tubing from Nick's arm.  I was able to remove everything else but that one I refused to take out for him.  I picked up my purse and told the guys, my husband and son, that I would meet them outside by the car and I left.

A little cold?  Perhaps, but I needed a little time to process what had transpired in the last few short hours this evening.  The night air was still warm, in the 60's but I was shivering and wanted my jacket.  I realized, as I stood there that I had left without the keys.  I turned around and thought about going back in but decided against that idea.  I waited a while and got my thoughts and emotions settled.  A potentially horrid incident had turned out well, and maybe, just maybe my son had learned an important lesson.  I could only hope.  I saw them both walk out of the hospital and head towards me.  My son was walking, not well, his pain was obvious but he was walking.  I met him halfway and said, "You know something?  If these antics of yours don't kill you - I might."  My son just smiled, he likes my humor, and put his arm around my neck and kissed my cheek.  With that I walked with him to the car, resisting the urge to put my arm around his waist or ribs.  Oh, that boy... I know why the hair on my head is turning silver and the lines on my face getting deeper.  I'm just glad that he's still around to add to them.