Damn That Rugby

Knitwits Yarns knitwitspenzance.co.uk

So - on Wednesday night I was all set to finish the waistcoat that's been driving me insane when we had "one of those phone calls". G (at rugby training) - "Dad (FB had answered the phone, I haven't got a really deep voice) - I've bashed my knee on a rock and got a huge hole in it".

FB was cooking (we share roles in this house - except for washing which is entirely my domain, apparently) so I went to get G. You may remember from the epic cycle ride that G has a slightly strange reaction to adrenaline (basically - he passes out) so we were immediately concerned he might pass out outside the rugby club. I got him in the car OK, got him home OK, got his (holey) tracksuit off OK, started cleaning some of the blood OK and then he turned deathly white and passed out.

At that point we thought A&E might be a good idea (the very A&E department I'd driven right past when bringing him home) so - after he'd regained consciousness and eaten a Mars bar (high in glucose) we got him back in the car, poor lad, and back to A&E.

They were brilliant and G had done a pretty impressive job of slicing his entire knee open - it wouldn't have looked much different if he's done it with a knife - except he'd done it at rugby so it was full of mud and grit and filth.

G was given his new best friend - gas and air - lots of local anaesthetic and then - get this (and pass over this bit if you're even the tiniest bit squeamish) they scrubbed his open gaping wound with a toothbrush (a red toothbrush for those of you who want the full details). G giggled throughout - damn, that gas and air is good.

He now has 4 sutures in his knee (no nonsy butterfly stitches for this wound), antibiotics for a week (due to the filth) and lots of pain killers.

I love rugby but sometimes stamp collecting is very attractive!