Expecting the Unexpected

I have made it home from the wedding extravaganza of all wedding extravaganzas. It was an interesting weekend. Curt was allowed off the hook so he and Luc rode the Metro through downtown Buffalo a hundred times while Pelee came to yet another Eggers' family function.

I would introduce him as my friend, or "brother from another mother", who was standing in for Curt who was riding the Metro with Luc.... and then Pelee would correct me....

"I am her secret lover...." he said to my DAD, who luckily was all tanked up. You see Pelee and I went one hour later (on purpose) and thank god we did because we missed "Whisky hour". Turns out that the first hour of the wedding was no food, no water, just whisky.

And they were all sillied up. Which then became somewhat infectious.

The last time I had a little too much of the juice was at Rich Clark's wedding.

And now I very vividly remember why.

Now don't get me wrong the wine was pink... and it was good.... and when there was no pink wine around I added some red to some white.... and then interestingly watched the French people have seizures.

I taught my nephew to do the worm, sometimes known as the dolphin. And yes, that does involve lying on your stomach. Which the French people thought was quite interesting.

I liked the icing better then the cake, so when the French people asked who was licking the icing off the cake I told them that's what we Americans do 'round these parts.

As the training questions rolled in… I just began telling people I won yesterday's race, even though I didn't race it. They all just can't get past the fact that we can ride our bikes more than 3 miles without dying. So I relented that it was easier to call myself a champion than to explain why I rode around the island.

The French people liked that. And I like the way they call me champion.

I came face to face with Reed Ackerman, who after 15 years apologized for being a part of the clan that threw a bucket full of vomit and beer into a Jeep Cherokee carrying 13 cheerleaders, of which I was one. And then he told me he lives down the road from me now.

Apparently in the speech that I gave in tribute to my sister I told people I have an alternative lifestyle. Then I spent the rest of the evening asking every person if they realized that what I meant by alternative lifestyle was that I was an athlete.....

I don't know what the French thought of that.

Pelee was not successful in getting my Uncle Buck to come to the "Italian bar" after the reception, but Pelee and I did make it there. Had some more pink wine and then ran through sprinklers in the front lawn of the Hyatt.

And I know the French people loved that.

But then came the morning and a feeling I have not felt in a million years. Dear Curt took dear Luc out for a walk, to which we were thrilled as the curtains were drawn back to closed. 10 minutes later a frantic call comes from Curt.... he had seen the word FREE and turned to look. And while he was looking Dear Luc jumped on an elevator. Of a hotel with 16 floors. And because there actually IS a God as I stood at the door of an elevator on the tenth floor and Curt stood in the lobby, magically the door of the middle elevator opens and there is dear Luc with another boy and his mom.

"Luc said he lost his dad and his Mom is sick in bed." she told me.

After the dust settled and Curt wished me a happy 7th wedding anniversary.... I retreated back to the 10th floor where I found Pelee in the hall with his underwear looking for Luc. We retreated back to the dextox center where I spent the next 2 hours kissing the porcelain, as the French people say.

I could eat nothing at brunch and then cursed myself for the brainchild idea of Curt and I driving separate cars. Because now I needed to get back and I couldn't stop hurling.

So the one day I have to pull over on the 90 and hang over a guardrail to "lose the cookies" as the French people say... wouldn't that be the day where four sets of people I know drive by beeping and laughing. I guess that's what happens when you have the idea of a distinctive car.

Back at home I have stopped losing any cookies. I still had a run to do, and I realize why I stopped drinking the pink wine in the first place. So my wine glass has been hung up for the next event in 5 years. More importantly I remember why I love the Ironman more than I love going our to 'Italian clubs"

Because in the morning, and you wake up with a body that's screaming. At least when you've done the Ironman it's because you did something worth doing. You didn't essentially poison yourself.

And then you begin to notice that when you do the Ironman you begin to give the training and race day stories the same tone and affection as those good old bar hoping days. And that's who I am now, and that's who I intend to stay.

Just when I believed the day was closing, just when it was safe to lay on the couch… I hear a piercing scream from the backyard, where Luc was playing. I found him laying in a heap on the ground clutching his leg. Being a pediatric emergency nurse has it's benefits, and one of them is knowing the scream of pain. The scream that is not fake, and is not crying wolf.

We got him to the emergency dept, and this would be a time where I was glad to work there. We do take care of our own. One woman asked my husband if I worked there. Upon him saying yes she rolled her eyes and grunted, accusing us of getting special treatment.

I shall tell you this. In this circumstance Luc's injury was more critical then her son's stuffy nose. And we do get special treatment. It's one of the very few benefits of working in the pediatric emergency dept… again we do take care of our own. I have spent countless nights taking care of all of the children in Rochester. Diagnosis ranging from stuffy noses to brain tumors, shootings… you name it. I have held the hands of children who are dying, who are in painful procedures… I have even had a gun held to my head.

So when one of our own arrives with their children… we do give priority. It's one thing we can do for one another when the rest of the world treats us like shit.

Luc broke his tibia and had to undergo what we call a conscious sedation. Through an IV we give medication that puts him to sleep, and then the ortho docs put a big splint on him from toe to hip. He sailed through it, did awesome and now we are home.

He'll be off his feet for about 4 weeks, which stinks because it is summer and he just did his first triathlon on Saturday.

But accidents are called accidents … they aren't called "on purposes", and boys will be boys. We've got a loving family on the way to see him right now, and we will make the best of all of it.

Thanks so much for stopping by!

:-) Mary Eggers