When last we spent time together, our hero had just gotten out of the hospital. We pick the story back up on Friday evening. I drove home from work excited to put this insane week behind me and relax (as much as that is possible with 3 boys, 3 chickens, and an epileptic dog with allergies). We normally go to SJ for family pizza night, but that had been cancelled. I just wanted to go home, play with the wife and kids, and then after they go to bed find a reason to go across the street so that I can get free booze at Rossi's Pub. As I am sure you can predict (due mostly to the fact that this entire blog is all about crap that I do not want), my (I think) simple (I tried not to parenthizie, but I just can't help myself) relaxation (now this is getting silly. someone should talk some sense into me) plan (it is becoming difficult to even get through this sentence) was not to be. My fatal error was that I failed to realize that weeks start on Sunday (despite the confusing title of weekend)(yes weeks do start on Sunday. Look at a calendar. This one was your fault. Stop interrupting). Of course when I got home Cole had a fever. Of course we had to go to the ER (driving to Santa Clara at 6:30 on a Friday = crappy). Of course we did not get home until 11:45. Of course I am not done.
Again to recap. Weeks do not end until Saturday is over. Now, on Saturday the sun was shining and Cole was feeling good. So good that he was going to play in his soccer game. We were playing at the house. Some of the neighborhood kids came over to play in the tree house and chase chickens. All in all it was a great morning. Then, the week did not end.
(Author's Note: If you have read this blog at all you realize that I have only a very tenuous grasp of truth and reality. However, the next paragraph is completely real and serious)
I was holding Oliver in the back yard and talking with Frank (neighbor) and Elisa. I was pointing at the garden as I was saying something about chicken proofing the garden when all of a sudden, Oliver moved and he slipped out of my arms. He fell to the ground, landing on the cement. It looked like he hit head first and there was a loud banging sound that just might haunt me forever. We rushed to the ER, but we are so used to ER visits, especially how long they take, that Elisa just dropped Oliver and I off and took Cole and Logan to the soccer game. (A small geographic explanation is warranted here. We usually go to Kaiser in Santa Clara for Cole, but for normal ER stuff we can go to a closer Kaiser. In this instance, we went to SSF).
(Enough of the super serious. Bring on the irreverence)
The ER at SSF (to which I have now been 4 times. Once when Cole tried to take a short corner in the apartment and ended up headbutting the corner of the wall, once when Elisa had an ear infection, once when Elisa obtained a freak redwood splinter under the fingernail, and now this) is old and small (the entire ER could fit inside the waiting room of the Santa Clara ER) and has no TV. So there I was (I forgot to mention that since it was hot outside when I bounced the baby, he was only in a diaper) in the ER registration line with a screaming half naked baby and boy did I feel like white trash. All I needed was to be wearing a stained wife beater and be drunk (which of course I wasn't. I should have, per Papa Sam, been holding some booze so that people would think I was drunk and not just stupid). Some nurse clearly felt sorry for me and rushed me in, completely cutting in front of the lady who was about to puke into her purse, or on the registration lady, or on any one of us. They took us back to a room and Oliver took one look at all the fun things in a hospital room and immediately stopped crying and started grabbing for things. The nurse did some quick vitals and then Dr. Skater came in (please note that his name was not really Dr. Skater, but he was wearing vans) (really, a doctor wearing vans). He took one look at my laughing (I am pretty sure he was laughing at me.) baby and said that everything was fine. This took all of 10 minutes. Did I mention that Elisa had dropped us off (the dropping off occurred because the clutch in the Jetta needs to be replaced so it was at the shop) and she had gone to the soccer game. We were there just long enough to make sure that Cole had started his game. So then I got to hang out in the SSF ER waiting room with a baby (put clothes on him), trying to keep him occupied.
I did get to see some interesting things. I think I saw some Chinese men abduct a woman in a wheelchair (but as I cannot understand Chinese, they may have just been her family). I saw a social worker sting operation (It was amazing and exciting and that is all I have to say about that). I saw a guy try and hook up with a nurse while he was waiting to go in and see him mom.
Then do you know what happened? The week finally ended. Sunday finally happened. It was glorious and I loved it. We did not go to the ER. We (I) did not drop any babies. We did not have to deal with the plague. There was no nuclear holocaust.
Just writing about this week was nearly as exhausting as living it (er...maybe not) so I am done for now. While you are waiting for the next installment please raise your glasses and toast Oliver, hard headed as his daddy.