Last Thursday I mentioned I would be going away. Everything was ready. I had made a list of things to do before the trip, carefully checking off each completed task. Clothes, snacks for the car, medicines, toiletries, camera. . .We were good to go.
We planned to take off on Saturday morning. Until I received a phone call on Friday night. The caller introduced himself--he was from the Milwaukee Country Sheriff''s office. Then he said he was calling about Salahuddin, my 13-year old son. He encouraged me not to panic but, well, my son had been hit by a car. But don't worry, he said. He just hurt his leg a little.
We rushed to the scene. Salahuddin was strapped to a gurney, ready to be taken by ambulance. He was alert and in good spirits. I rode with him in the ambulance.
About thirty-six hours later, give or take, we brought him back home--his right leg encased in plaster from foot to thigh. He's sitting in a wheelchair as I type--though he did learn how to use crutches. Did I mention the trip to Dallas was off?
We need to take him back to the hospital tomorrow for surgery on his leg. I hate the thought of them cutting into him while he lies unconscious. But it's necessary. He's 13 years old and I want his leg to heal so he can run, jump and ride his bike again--well, not his old bike. That's what he was on when he was hit.
I'm anxiously waiting until tomorrow. I want him to be fixed--but I wish there was another way. I want everything to be back to normal. That won't happen for a long time yet.
And I want to go to Dallas. Oh well.
Alhamdulilah. Allah knows best.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment