This past weekend, we were there as usual over Labor Day. Yesterday (Sunday), just before supper, Andrew and several other kids took off on their bikes on a trail near the creek when Andrew took a pretty nasty wipe-out and found himself at the bottom of a rocky hill near the creek pretty banged up and more than a little scared. His walkie-talkie took a beating too, so he could not get a hold of us, so he sent one of the younger kids back to get help. Being a typical 7-year-old, this child wasn't clear with what had happened, but we finally got the message that Andrew was hurt and we needed to go check it out. So Dave and Homer (our friend) headed out to find Andrew.
Although we are in a modern world of technology and communication, the story still got mangled pretty badly, and between kids trying to help, walkie-talkies, and parents who fear the worst, Andrew was in a ravine with a twisted elbow and a broken leg with a bone protruding through the flesh by the time I got the message. I held it together long enough to run and get help and then proceeded to go into a 10-minute meltdown while I could, since I was away from both kids. I knew I would get it together for them when I needed to...but right then, it hit me pretty hard, and I had visions of my child in agony with mangled body parts. I did calm down, and within about ten minutes, I finally got the accurate message that not only was it not as bad as I thought, but Andrew was up and walking and moving around pretty good, and we probably wouldn't even have to go to the hospital. He had banged up his elbow, knee, and back, but no broken bones, major twists or even any major bruises.
Unfortunately, my meltdown happened near the dining hall in the middle of supper, and while I am forever grateful for the people who showed concern and rallied around me, it didn't help the rumor mill any. Small camp...everyone knows everyone...news travels fast...too fast. Andrew was probably close to death by the time some people heard anything, so we've been calling it his "near-death experience." In fact, later than evening, a friend was riding by on his bike and saw Andrew--and with a wry grin said, "I heard you died...!"
As you can see in the picture, his parents were probably much more worse-for-the-wear than he was, especially mentally. He had more dirt than scrapes, and he'll probably have a nasty bruise on his back to show off, but that's it. We decided not to go to the hospital--too much hassle when my motherly instinct was telling me he'd be just fine (where was that instinct when I first got the message that he'd been hurt pretty badly??). Sure enough, he was chasing bottles from a bottle-rocket launcher (that another camper had made and brought) less than half an hour after eating some supper.