Sick Day

I woke up from a deep, much needed night of sleep with a pounding in my right ear. I looked at my clock, 5 am was glowing blue in my dark room. I never wake up in the middle of the night, but my ear hurt so bad that I couldn’t go back to sleep.

I was feeling really sick the night before and was hoping a good night sleep would refresh me. It was just the opposite. I think my head cold spread to my ears. I thought to myself, you have two more hours to sleep. You need that sleep. I tried so hard to fall back asleep, but the more I thought about it the more frustrated I got. I was in too much pain.

I was having a debate with myself in my head…Go to work, or call in sick. I didn’t want to call in sick because I know it makes it harder for Kelsey. At the same time was miserable. That’s it I thought. I have to take care of myself. I made the call and tried to fall back asleep; hoping the relief of not working would help.

I still felt the pounding in my ear. It felt warm and swollen.  Maybe I should call the doctor I thought to myself. No…I will just have to wait forever in an uncomfortable waiting room and the doctor will just tell me there is nothing he can do. I’m better off in bed.

I tried a wet warm wash cloth and pressed it against my ear. This feels a little better I think to myself. The relief only lasted a few minutes. Tylenol wasn’t helping either.

I broke down and called the doctor’s office. They were booked for the next two days. I was so discouraged. How am I going to go back to work with screaming 5 and 6 y ear olds with this pounding in my ears? I asked the receptionist to call me with ANY openings.

I lay miserable in my bed for the next two hours, and then my phone rang. I was praying it was the doctor’s office.  “How does 3:45 today work?” Perfect I said.

I was sitting in the exam room anxiously waiting for the doctor to come in and tell me what I could do to make the pain go away. It felt like the clock hands were moving in slow motion. The doctor finally came in. He looked in my ear and said”Owe! Your ear is bright red. Like blood red. You’re too old to get ear infections.” I wasn’t even really listening to what he was saying. I was relieved I was going to get medicine and just wanted to leave to get it. I couldn’t get out of that office fast enough.

I went to the pharmacy and picked up the antibiotics and ear numbing drops. I put thin in my ear…awwww! Instant relief. I was finally able to go to sleep and get the full nights rest my body needed.

I'm not really sure about the title, I am also unsure of how to differentiate when I'm thinking to my self, and when I am telling the story, or if I need to (if that makes sense).

White Water

I have been white water rafting for 22 years now. I go every summer with my family and a group of close family friends. The whole group anxiously waits all year for the one week full of rugged camping, adventure on the water, and spending time with each other.

I still remember the first year that we went. My parents’ friends said they were going and it would be fun. They invited us to come along. My family had never camped a day in our lives, let alone floated down a raging river in a little raft, but we went. I don’t remember a whole lot about that first year, but a few things stick out in my mind.  

 It was hot! Every morning we globbed on the sunscreen, and then again at lunch. We were in Maupin, Oregon which is very dry and offers little shade. At our campsite the only shade was a small patch provided by a rather small tree. It was a hot piece of real estate.

After we got ready the Dad’s pumped up boats, patched any wholes they found, and loaded them on the trailer. We all found a life jacket that fit and piled into a 15 passenger van with the seats removed. I remember thinking it was so cool because we didn’t have to wear our seatbelts. Then I realized it wasn’t so cool because there were about thirty people in the van. Being a kid we had to sit in the laps of the adults who were sweaty and sticky because it was close to a hundred degrees and the only ventilation was a slight breeze from the cracked window. It felt an extra ten degrees hotter inside. When the van came to a stop I was so relieved. I rushed out to take a breath of fresh air.

We all trickled down to the water and the Dad’s took the boats off and hauled them into the river. The leader of our group gave a safety talk, and told us this was the kids run. I was so excited. I remember I wanted to be in the front with all the action, so me and my dad hoped in and found a seat. All the other boats filled up and one by one we took off down the river.

At First I was having fun. I had been in boats before on lakes, and this seemed no different.  I saw the first wave and shouted, “White water!” with excitement. Then we hit the white water. I could see the nose of the boat go up, and it seemed like it took forever for it to come back down. I wasn’t having as much fun now. I was terrified. I started to cry. My dad grabbed me tight and put my hand on his heart and started singing me a song that he sang to me at bed time. “Bump, bump, bumpity bump. Listen to my heart.” It took a couple times through the song, but eventually I started singing along. Before I knew it I wasn’t scared anymore. I was having fun again!

By the end of that first kids run, I couldn’t wait until after lunch to get back on the river. When we got back home I was already talking about wanting to go the next year. It didn’t take me too long before I was going on the “adult run.” Now I get to be the brave one who sits with the little kids who are scared. I sing them the same song my dad sang to me 22 years ago in hopes they will be able to do the same when they get older. 

Oops...Sorry Dad!

Growing up I lived in a cul-de-sac and there were about four families with young kids. I was one of the youngest and I was always looking up to the other kids. We often spent the afternoons riding bikes in our cul-de-sac. I remember thinking I wanted a bike like the big kids instead of my tricycle. I had a birthday coming up so I told my parents I wanted a bike. I was so excited when my dad rolled in the shiny pink bike with a big red bow, and training wheels.

Later that night I was out on my new bike and practicing. I practiced as often as my parents let me. Soon I was good enough to ride with the big kids. I did that for a while and though it was pretty fun. I got pretty good at it, and wanted to learn to ride without the training wheels.

During this same time my dad was shopping for his first brand new truck. He finally decided on a Crimson (We are a Cougar family) Ford Ranger. He loved his new truck, and parked it in the driveway to show it off.

Later that week I asked him to take my training wheels off and help me learn how to ride my bike. So he got his wrench and took off the wheels. We were in the street and would hold the seat while I got my balance, and then let me ride on my own. We did this a couple times and I was feeling pretty good, a little nervous but confident. So he told me to try on my own. I started off a little shaky but got going pretty fast, a little too fast. I was headed straight towards the driveway. I crashed right into my dad’s brand new truck, and left a good size dent. I remember my dad looking at me, and looking at the dent. It seems like he did it a couple times trying to decide what he should do. What he wanted to do, and what he knew he needed to do were two different things. I started crying because it hurt. I started crying more when I saw that I dented his truck. He told me it was just a truck and it doesn’t matter. Now we look back at it and laugh.