It was only November when younger son sent me an email 3 days after a nasty yachting incident in which a rope whipped him across the throat and threw him into the ocean. Link: (Why Mothers Drink Part 1 – though I didn’t know it was going to be a series at the time!)
Once I’d finished a couple of bottles I admonished him for taking so long to tell me his news and asked “IF anything ever happens again I’d like to know straight away”….. (yeah, because I’m sure that knowing at the time makes these incidents much less stomach wrenching! )
Well I was enjoying a nice dinner when I got a text message: “Hey mum, I’ve been admitted to hospital with >50% collapsed lung. I’m fine so don’t worry”.
Yep, still stomach wrenching and I felt my dinner gurgling around ominously.
He could not talk – having tubes inserted into the lung etc… but a few hours later, doped up on morphine, he was able to gasp out some details: spontaneous pneumothorax – something “not uncommon” amongst young, tall males according to the doctor. He was playing indoor soccer when he felt intense pain in his chest & collapsed, unable to move or breathe properly. Like a lot of young men though, he waited for it to calm down enough to drive home and went to bed.
He awoke having trouble breathing and the Princess suggested a medical centre where an x-ray showed the story and he was told he’d have to go straight to hospital. Not the sort to panic, my son mentioned that he’d like to go home and get his car and a few things (LOL). The Doctor emphasised this was an “emergency” and that he was at risk of having a cardiac arrest! An ambulance was called but then it was decided that it would be quicker to put him in a taxi!
I had a sleepless night in DC waiting for further test results in the wee hours of the morning and then a few hours later, just before my rising time, a welcome text saying he was being discharged to “rest” at home.
I asked him: was this worse than being whipped off the yacht by rope? He replied “that was closer to death”…..
And, to answer Jane’s question I think 25 might be optimistic – the Economist just turned 24…!