It seems that my sister and I take turns posting stories about our sons and their latest medical dramas. So it must be my turn.
Last week on Sunday Lloyd phoned me and said his leg was sore, that he’d been kicked a couple of times while he was playing AFL on Saturday. So he came over for dinner that night and I said – WTF! you need to go to the hospital. His calf was the size of a bloody watermelon, with a huge bump and scab on top. And bruised.
But he ho hummed and said it wasn’t that bad and I said well if you wake up with a pain in the groin through the night get straight to the hospital because it means you’ve got a blood clot. (Mothers have medical degrees you know). And he said, Jane, no one else seems to think it’s a big deal. (Because mothers know nothing you know).
Thursday he rings me up and tells me he ended up driving himself to the hospital at midnight because the pain was intense. He then waited three hours to see a doctor (they didn’t have enough beds) then spent another three hours with the doctors. They xrayed it and the bone man came and looked at it and they said there was nothing broken and it was just a massive haematoma. Then they drugged him up on painkillers and he drove home. I said, you probably shouldn’t have been driving. But what do I know.
Anyway this was how it looked yesterday – one week on.
So then he tells me he’s off to Kakadu in June to do two weeks volunteer work with researchers studying crocodiles!
I’m hoping his student health care card covers the flying doctor service.