The Wound

Well, I suppose we all have had our little incidents where we cracked up on our bicycles. You know, gotten banged up, cut, or even broken bones. Sometimes those things happen when we're young. Things that become highlights of our youth, give us scars that "chicks dig" when we're older. (<====HA!)

Something along those lines happened Friday with my son. He's going to be 8 in July, and is still getting the hang of riding. I decided he might be ready to try pedaling while standing. I knew he was good with just coasting and standing, but adding in the pedaling was going to be new.

He was getting the hang of it, when all of a sudden he wobbled, and hey!

He went tumbling to the ground in an awkward manner. He rolled over yelling and clutching at the front of his right hip joint area just northwest of his groin. I asked to look and when I pulled down his shorts I saw it.

"Yep! Gonna need to see the Doc for this one", I thought as I quickly yanked the shorts back up. My son saw the football shaped hole tore into his flesh by the handle bar end plug, and said through his tears, "Is that my guts coming out?" No, I told him, and I had him put pressure on the area with his hand. It was actually fat under his skin.

Well, there was a car ride, a wait in the waiting room at the ER, and then the Doc put three stitches in his body, patched it up, and sent him home. He did pretty well, I hear. I didn't go, since I stayed home with his sister, who I think took it worse than her brother did!

I thought back to the time I was about his age and ripped a big hole in my lower leg on the bare solid rear axle of my "stingray" style bike. I remember the stern talking to I got from Mom and the Doctor telling me I might need a skin graft. I figure my son will now have a similar memory from this.

A memory of a wound, and a scar as a reminder.