Sunday, March 1, 2015

God's Timing

Gannon and I have never met eye to eye on the timing of things….I want it done yesterday, and he's okay with getting around to it tomorrow. There's absolutely nothing wrong with his way of doing things. He still gets it done; it's just that I happen to be a bit of a spazz.

The original plan was for Gannon to go out on his mission in August after he graduated from high school. Even though he didn't have the money saved up to go, I was good with it. We would pay, and he would go. He insisted that he pay his portion as his sister had, so he got a job and worked hard everyday.

He finally met the goal in September, so he finished filling out his mission papers and turned them in. I was thrilled!

At that time, he was acting as assistant coach for a co-ed high school soccer team--a team he'd played
with the year before. Now, his younger brother and sister were playing on the team.

The evening after his papers were turned in, he was at practice. I was at his younger brother's soccer practice and received a phone call from Gannon saying that I would need to take him to the hospital--he'd hurt his ankle. I was sure it was just a sprain--he'd done that before, so I told him to go home, elevate, and ice.

When I got home and pulled into the driveway, there he was….Still sitting in the driver's seat of the car. He'd been waiting for me. He couldn't get out of the car. He couldn't walk.

I can't remember how we ended up in the same car….I believe I half lifted him, and he hopped on one leg into the Suburban, and we headed off to urgent care.

We learned that he'd broken his leg. They told us that it was a typical break. They put him in a splint. They told us that we'd just have to take him in for a cast the following Wednesday. We made the appointment and left.

On Tuesday, he had his interview with our Bishop. Everything was on board, but the Bishop asked that we get clearance from the doctors for the papers to continue….Until we had their word that he wouldn't need physical therapy or some other form of treatment after the cast was off, he couldn't continue.


On Wednesday, we went to the hospital to get his cast on. Gannon woke up about 13 minutes before the appointment. He threw his clothes on and we hopped him into the car. We set of for the hospital and only waited a moment before they took us back to the casting room. I'm afraid my wheelchair driving skills will go down in infamy from this one morning's journey….UGH!

One of the doctors came in, greeted us, pulled up the x-ray on the computer screen, and focused in closely to the break. He explained that if he'd been an older guy, they'd just cast it up and let it heal. But, because Gannon's young and has a lot of years ahead….He asked Gannon if he'd had lunch that morning. Rather sheepishly, Gannon replied, "No."

The doctor, who ended up being the head of orthopedic surgery at this hospital, continued with, "Well, good because I have an opening at 2:00 this afternoon." They were going to set the bone right and get it back into place with a plate and some screws.

Everything went exactly as planned.

Gannon was laid up on the couch in our family room for six weeks. After that, he was in a boot for the next couple--haha! Yah, right--I mean days. He was supposed to have the boot on for a few weeks, but it drove him crazy and was very painful on his heel, so he was in it on and off for that length of time.

I have no idea why Gannon was delayed like this, but I will tell you one thing….After his cast was off and he was up and about again, he was amazingly compassionate toward me. I think from the vantage point of that couch, he watched the comings and goings of our house like he'd never seen them before. He must have had an alarm set on his phone for the time when the kids got out of school because most days, he beat me to the door to run off and pick them up. Anything I asked, he was Johnny-on-the-spot.

His papers went in, and although he no longer had a job, his money had been earned, and I was allowed some extra time with my son before he left our home for two years, and that was pretty darned SWEET!

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