WipeOut!

We went to ICHE Family Camp in early September this year. The kids had been looking forward to it for months. We packed up our food, clothes, bikes and sleeping bags for a weekend of fun! ICHE (Illinois Christian Home Educators) rents the majority of Camp Timber-Lee in southern Wisconsin for the 300+ group of homeschooling families.

While I organized our sleeping arrangements in the cabin, the kids took off our their bikes to explore the camp. The little ones were with Paul, and the older guys rode around together. It was less than an hour after we checked in that I got a knock at the door. The daughter of a lady I recently met told me that Seth was hurt. Now if you know Seth, he can make a tiny bump seem like the end of the world, so I really didn't know what to expect. I stuck baby Selah onto my back in the baby carrier and followed her to see where Seth was.

As we were speed walking to find him, the girl kept glancing at me. It was almost like she was saying, "Well, aren't you going to run?" I got the hint and grabbed Selah's legs to hold her to me and started jogging. It took forever. I didn't realize how big the camp was. By the time I got to Seth, I was huffing from the hilly backroad jogging trip, and there was makeshift doctor examining Seth who was laying at the bottom of a very steep gravel road. Paul had come from the other direction and was trying to comfort Seth as the doc looked him over and questioned him.

Seth had nasty, deep scrapes all over his arms and legs. He also had a gouge right above his lip. After checking out the face gouge, we determined that he'd probably need stitches to close it up. Paul lifted him onto the golf cart, then into the car, and on to the nearest emergency room. After nearly 4 hours, he came back to camp looking something like a mummy (with all of the gauze wrappings), and two stitches in his upper lip.

The entire time he was being treated, he ignored the cuts and scrapes and was moaning and complaining about his upper inner thigh. At the time, there was nothing but a small red mark. He continued to walk like he'd just gotten off a bucking bronco for about 3 days. After we got home from the camp, he showed me his leg and described what he remembered. Apparently, he had found this "cool hill" to ride bikes down. He had the other kids wait at the top while he took the first ride. I think he got nervous about going to fast in the loose gravel and he tried to slow down with his brakes. What he didn't tell us when we were fixing up the bikes for the trip, was that he only had front brakes. His back brakes didn't work at all. Going too fast... Only front brakes... You get the picture. His front tire started to turn to the side and he ended up flying over the handle bars, jamming one of them into his upper thigh, and flew off the road skidding through the gravel. His bike ended up in the wooded area with the seat twisted and handlebars all bent up. Even after three days, my knees went weak when I saw the bruise on his thigh. It was as big as a dinner plate and such a deep purple, it made a bluberry look pale. Poor guy.

On the upside... I my first opportunity to take stitches out. I wouldn't have even considered it, but when the ER nurse said to make an appointment back in IL to get them removed, Paul asked about doing it ourselves. She commented that "if someone in the family was good at sewing..." I wouldn't say that I'm the best seamstress, but I've had enough practice at seam ripping... I worked my nerves through the first stitch. No sweat. Then, Seth, just for bragging rights, decided to take out the next one by himself. I held the mirror for him, and he accomplished his very first self-stitch removal. That's m' boy!