As I was driving away from Walmart halfway done with my errands so I could have a peaceful day I got a call.

I was going to be home WELL AHEAD of the 45 minutes I had told Grandma.  I didn't want an interruption.

I reluctantly answered.  It was Middle Boy.  He had injured his foot playing soccer at his day program and needed me to come get him and take him to get his foot x-rayed, because they thought it might be broken.

When I picked him up he was in quite a bit of pain, but also VERY AGAINST going to the doctor.  He was in so much pain he vomited in the car.  Not good for me, because I could hardly keep from vomiting myself.

When we got to urgent care we needed to get consent to treat.  It took 70 minutes and six or seven phone calls.  Good thing he wasn't actually dying.

We were at urgent care for four hours, because they had to take multiple versions of x-rays and consult with an orthopaedic surgeon to figure out what is going on.  In the end he had an ankle sprain and a couple of dislocated toes.  We already had the crutches at home from his last ankle sprain.

The interesting thing is this....the last time I was going to be away for a weekend was when he sprained his ankle the first time.  Attachment or coincidence?

Praises for a thorough doctor and medical tests.  Prayers for a quickly healing ankle.