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Archive for the ‘Instant family’ Category

On Wednesday we, that is Thomas, Pascal and I, were having a “lazy day”, and in the afternoon we decided to head out for icecream with the dogs. I got bored waiting for Thomas to convince the teenager that exposure to fresh air and daylight would not turn him to dust, so I went ahead with the dogs.

Once outside, Orion trotted off in the direction of Votivpark while Mischa and I hung back. Orion kept trotting off in the usual direction, then suddenly realised we were not with him, turned around and stared short-sightedly at people around him as he headed back in our general direction. As his eyesight is rapidly deteriorating he was unable to spot us, got confused (again) and turned around (again), obviously thinking that we had overtaken him without him noticing. As I didn’t want him to get too far without us I started running after him – then I heard a familiar voice from behind forcefully shouting “What happened?!!” and Thomas came flying past me. Horizontally. He made an impressive roll in mid air, hit the ground, winced, and stayed down, while I carried on, yapping over my shoulder as I overtook “I’ll catch him, don’t worry!”

Which I also did.

Turning back, Orion in tow, I found Thomas awkwardly getting to his feet, moaning and whimpering sadly in the process. Pascal made an heroic attempt at carrying his dad in the direction of the flat, the dogs looked confused and disappointed at having been deprived of their walk, Thomas continued to moan, miscellaneous spectators offered help and were brushed off – and we all made our miserable way back home, sans icecream, sans walkies.

Thomas had ripped the muscles deep in the upper part of his left thigh which made him lose control of his left leg. He then overstepped and shot through the air (the aforementioned horizontal flight), ripping the tendons in his left ankle for the nth time. He was in enough pain to actually cry. NOT something he does on a regular basis. Cry, that is. Ripping stuff in his body is another story entirely.

Do you, like me, get the feeling this runs in the family?

We have gained some sort of bizarre local fame in our district with our gung-ho approach to dog walks and – well, life in general. EVERYBODY greets us. The local business owners and the bin collectors. Even the medical students smoking outside the medical department next door have come to realise that when we wish to walk down the pavement with our dogs we will do so, regardless of them taking up the entire space with their lung cancer experiment, and now move aside before we introduce them to a life-size game of ten-pin bowling, almost bowing before us as we pass in familiar disarray.

That aside, Thomas had to get his doctor to make an unscheduled home visit – home visits no longer part of the health service, but of course if you have had the same doctor for just about ever and he knows you don’t cry without reason, he can still be convinced – and the wonderful man had the audacity to actually laugh when he saw Thomas hobbling around with his grandfather’s bamboo walking stick for support.

I drove Thomas to work last night and picked him up after his nightshift at 6am this morning. If he can’t drive, he is ill and should generally stay home from work. I’m still glad he decided to go. I was getting flashbacks to when dad had his back problems when I was a kid and he lay in bed shouting orders at me and my sister in an effort to (helpfully) run the household from bed. Today, he decided he could get to work himself, using the MP3. I guess he doesn’t like my driving and was unimpressed by my botched reverse parking as we arrived home. Oh, come on – who, apart from him – is able to reverse park without problems at that hour in the morning? Especially with a tram impatiently trying to get you out of the way.

Thomas is now sporting an impressively purply-red-blue and swollen bruise on the back of his upper thigh, about 10-15cm across, but at least he is not crying anymore, only from time to time moaning a little in a sort of manly way. And suffering the pain and hardship of driving himself to work because his wife is such a lousy driver/parker he can’t bear the indignity of her reverse-parking failures.

Oh well. His pain. My extra sleep.

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Well, it’s a bit more than that. Thomas’ oldest son is in hospital with a badly broken leg and has joined the statistics over people who break their limbs in skiing accidents in Austria.

It’s one of these statistics one can only get into if you live in a country with both snow and mountains.

We’re presently waiting to hear how is operation came out. Yes, his leg was so badly broken — open wound, both bones in the lower leg twisted and broken — he required an op and pins put in and all that. Major. Well, it beats piercings for coolness big time. If you manage to heal again, that is.

We’re also waiting to hear if the skis and boots survived. Ok, I’m the evil stepmother and am waiting to hear if the equipment can still be used in the future, with or without blood.

However, I would like to congratulate B on having made it into the charts.

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