To my dear readers: I'm probably going to bombard you with posts over the next couple of days: lots to say, but all unrelated. Nothing for it but to write, write, write!
I was very dismayed this Wednesday, when I got a phone call from Oliver's school, telling me that he had been 'kneed' in the groin.
For those of you who don't know, Oliver had surgery on his testicles about two weeks ago. He was off school for a week, and had been back only 2.5 days when he was accosted by a child of, let's say, less than average social skills. Well, that's the only way I can think of to describe it. Who on Earth kicks other children, instead of actually trying to make friends?
I know, I should be understanding an nurturing - I'm a teacher after all - but this one got me all riled up. The protective mother within me leaped to the surface: it was all I could do not to march down to the school and drag the errant child out by his ear.
Oliver's OK. We think. We called the surgeon's office, but he's away until next week. My GP said he thought Oliver would be OK. Oliver himself said the pain wasn't that bad by the next day. But a part of me cries 'what if he has to do the surgery all over again?'; 'what if he can't have kids?'...
A couple of nights earlier, Oliver had told me that his friends were playing rough games at school: fighting, punching and kicking each other, and that he didn't like those games. I had told him to tell them 'stop it, I don't like it' (by god, I'm such a bloody teacher!), which is exactly what he did. His friends were playing rough, and he told them to stop. This other kid, who was really only hanging on the peripheral, came up and stuck his knee fair into Oliver's balls.
Bloody hell. Poor Ollie. From what people (men) tell me, it's hard enough getting a kick on a normal day, but two weeks after surgery??
Needless to say I went into mega-hover mode. But he seems OK. Me, on the other hand...not sure if this will ever get any easier...