My son, Reed, was in a freak accident late last week. Everything is going to be fine and we got a new family story to bond us together. We hope he’ll get spring from the hospital soon (hello, Universe — how about today?) and we are all thankful for your outpouring of good wishes.
Here are two super-short Reed stories from his hospital stay.
Reed was just coming off the anesthesia, post-surgery. He was all tangled in bed sheets, wires, and tubes, and the nurse needed to check his wound dressing. She painstakingly tried to extricated him from his bonds, winding stuff around and through and over to gain access. Reed roused a bit, opened one eye, and asked her sweetly — first words post-op — Is there something I can help you with?
This unguarded moment is so typical of his kind nature.
Two of Reed’s best buds visited over the weekend with their moms, my friends.
“So,” said a friend. “You have a hole in your gut? Cool!”
“Yeah,” said Reed. “I’ve always had a 6-pack. BUT NOW I’M RIPPED.”