Wednesday, June 29, 2011

The (W)hole Foot

Last night, as I was pumping gas, I heard that funny little sound my phone makes when I miss a call. I rolled my eyes and thought to myself, my phone is in my pocket. Why can’t it just ring through?

The message was from the camp I sent my daughter to just two days ago. Actually, it was the camp nurse. Yep, just two days in and my baby has to go to the hospital.

It seems she was practicing cartwheels in the bunk house when she hit her foot against the (obviously) exposed fire extinguisher. She cut open the ball of her foot, but was in good spirits. And no, it wasn’t serious, but will require a few stitches.

My heart stopped. First thought: they’re not telling me the whole story. Second thought: Don’t worry, she’s fine.

Several phone calls later (the camp nurse called back; the camp administrator did too) my baby was off to the hospital, where we later found out they glued the hole in her foot shut.

Then I heard her sweet voice on the phone I melted. She told me they glued her foot and that she couldn’t swim for a few days. But she was happy and hence, I relaxed. Thank you G-d, for a very small clap in a world as menacing as this.