Sara had to be taken to the emergency room yesterday because she strained some muscle around her hip during the school’s relay race. She ended up hyperventilating with the pain and drama of the moment. She had settled down by the time I showed up at the track meet. The head of first aid services insisted that the hip should be looked into because it could be a fine-line break.
So, she gets to hobble along on crutches for a few days. I am hoping that her using the crutches will lose their allure quickly. She and Julien are supposed to go off to Erlangen on their own later this week.
(The first aid doctor had the audacity to ask me if Sara was someone who was resilient to pain or was she overly sensitive (translation - a whoosh). Pleease, he was talking about my precious Italian princess drama queen! I was so stunned by the question because of the audience: Sara, Julien, and other first aid helpers that I couldn't answer at first. Sara answered in a trembling voice but with total conviction: I'm more of a tough guy. Oh, don't you love self-illusion?)
(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.)
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