Jeremy began having severe pain in his ankle Saturday afternoon but was determined to see Eden get married. I told him I’d take him to the ceremony, but as soon as the bride kissed the groom, we were going back to the ER. We left the kids at the reception with Papa and took off to the nearest hospital to find out why, after limping on it for 5 days, he suddenly couldn’t move it or touch it without intense pain.

The doctor gave us many reasons for why he thought this would happen, but there weren’t a lot of definite answers. The one thing he knew for sure is that Jeremy needed more serious antibiotics than what he had been taking at home, so he admitted him in the early hours of Sunday morning.

They put him on an IV drip of antibiotics and did a CT scan of his leg. There were no doctors there until today so we hung out in his hospital bed and watched stupid movies on the comedy channel together. It was actually quite enjoyable.

The doctor came in this morning and looked at the scan. He saw something that concerned him and so he called in a surgeon for a 2nd opinion. Turns out the spot in question was just severe bruising and nothing that needed to be removed. (Thank goodness!)

At that point we got the okay to be discharged after his last dose of antibiotics around 3 pm. It was lunch time so I asked the nurse if I could take him for a walk outside in a wheelchair while we waited. She said, “Sure” and the 2 of us tried to get him comfortable.

But as soon as his leg was lowered below his heart, the pain was intolerable. He sat in the chair 10 minutes thinking it would get better. It never did. By the time we got him back in bed, he was exhausted. I stood there staring at him with tears in my eyes. “How am I going to get you home and in bed? It’s a 45 minute drive. That was only 10 minutes and it was awful. What are we going to do?”

The nurse called the doctor back in and told him what happened. He poked around Jeremy’s ankle some more and agreed that he should stay. The only problem was, the hospital where we were, was not contracted with our insurance company and if he stayed there, we would be paying 100% of the costs.

So we had to move to another hospital right across town. The doctor here told us the best guess as to what is causing the pain is something called Compartment Syndrome, being made worse by the infection. He told us to plan on being her at least 2 more days.

We were supposed to leave yesterday for Orlando for a much needed vacation, but it looks like I’ll be spending my week bed-side instead of pool-side. Eating cafeteria food instead of seafood. Freezing my hiney off in this 60 degree icebox instead of tanning my skin in a beach chair.

But don’t worry. I’m not bitter.

Monday afternoon Jeremy took Emery to play a round of golf. I took Savannah to get a pedicure before our upcoming vacation to Orlando. After getting our toes painted pretty, we went to get a bite to eat. As we were getting in the car to head back home I got a text from the golf course that Jeremy was in an accident and being taken to the hospital by ambulance.

When I finally saw him in the emergency room, I couldn’t believe my eyes! His left leg was completely mutiliated. There was a hole, I’m not kidding, at his shin and I could see all the way down into his leg. It was probably 3 inches long and a half an inch wide. A little further down, on the inside of his calf, there was another smaller hole and 3 or 4 deep slices right down into the muscle. The rest of his leg from the knee down was void of skin.

Kinda gross in details, I know, but all I kept hearing is that he was in a golf cart accident. How does that happen in golf cart for cryin’ out loud?????

Turns out, as my 2 boys finished up one hole and got in the cart to go to the next one, the gas pedal stuck full throttle. The wheel just happened to be turned all the way to the left, so the cart went full speed ahead toward a stone landscaping wall. Instinctively Jeremy put his foot out to brace the impact of the crash, but when he did, his foot got stuck between the wall and the golf cart. When the cart hit the wall, it broke the axel and so he could not turn the wheel back to the right, nor could he release the gas pedal. So the cart continued moving, twisting and dragging his leg the entire length of the wall.

Ouchy Momma!!!!

Once the cart finally released him, his first thought was that he lost his leg. He started calling to other golfers for help and when one couple got to him, the woman started screaming which made him look down and notice that indeed his leg was still there, but he had severed an artery near the calf and blood was spewing each time his heart pumped.

The couple helped him wrap his leg to try to stop the bleeding and also took Emery up to the clubhouse to call 911. The ambulance took him to the ER where Savannah and I were waiting. I will never forget the look on my little boy’s face when he came into the waiting room clutching the towel covered in his Daddy’s blood. I didn’t know if he was going to smile or burst into tears. I think he wanted to do the latter, but held it together and gave me the biggest hug ever.

Jeremy knew I had been wanting to dust off the ‘ole Kmart clubs from days past, and on Sunday night he asked me if I could get an early start to Monday’s school day so we could play 9 holes the next afternoon. Um…yeah!

We couldn’t have asked for a prettier day to just be outside soaking up the warm autumn sun in Georgia. I think we were the only ones out there, with the exception of some deer on hole #5.

I could go on and on and on about the beautiful weather, colorful trees, and cute little squirrels we encountered that afternoon. That’s because I have pretty much nothing good to say about my game. Apparently my swing has swung. I knew that having children had adversely affected my brain and the shape of my body, but I had no idea that it had also killed my ability to drive a golf ball 200 yards down a straight fairway.

And you want to know the worst part? Walking out of the tee box and hearing my 4 year old say, “Hey Mom! You’re ball is next to mine!”

Nice.

I packed his little backpack to the hilt with Leapster games, racing cars, and Toy Story figurines.

Much to my surprise, Jeremy called me on the 9th green and said that Emery was having a great time. He had taken a pint sized golf club and was letting him tee off on each hole. From what I understand, he was also encouraging the other golfers. “Oooh, nice shot!” “Good ball.” Or “Great drive!”

Excited at the potential of his new golfing buddy, Jeremy asked Emery on the way home, “So what did you think? Did you have fun?”

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“You wouldn’t let me play in the sand.”