It was downright chilly yesterday morning. I had gotten us all safely out of the house and we were headed to daycare and work, when I had to pull over so that PumpkinBoy could toss his cookies in the parking lot of Wild Harvest. We were close enough to Miss Dizzle's daycare that it made sense to drop her and then head back home, with only one child to deal with for the day. My feet were freezing when I got home, and I popped on my new Sockapaloooza socks and I got a little twinge of glee, remembering how nice it is to wear handknit socks.
PumpkinBoy got progressively worse throughout the day, and when late afternoon had him rolling off the couch in a ball of agony before violently throwing up for the 3rd time that day, we were off the to pediatrician's office, with me realizing it was now too warm to be wearing socks, but whatever, who really cares about sweaty feet when your son is hurling his guts into his sister's carseat as you mutter curses at the lights that aren't changing fast enough.
After an exam that had him jolting thru the roof when his lower right quadrant was palpated, I got to carry my (still vomiting) boy across the way to the ER. Dan and baby Dizzle met us there while we were getting triaged.
I am happy to report that 6 hours later, after a dose of antiemetic and a couple bags of fluid, PumpkinBoy was perking up and said his tummy didn't hurt any longer. Oh, and he was hungry, and why do you smell like cookies, Mommy? (I had popped out to buy diapers to change the baby and snuck a granola bar snack before I returned).
As our very relieved but bedraggled family stumbled out of the ER back through the waiting room, feeling a little delirious with fatigue and relief, I spied a woman sitting knitting on a sock. "A sock knitter!" I blurted clumsily and kind of just stood there like a moron. She cautiously stated, "Yes." I flipped my bright orange Croc off and held my right foot up while balancing the baby on my left hip to show mine off: "I have some too - handknit socks that is". A pause, kind of brief but still a little awkward, she's staring at my foot, then her face melted into a smile and said "Oh those are just lovely. Nice work on the cables" (they're not cabled, but I can she why she'd think so given her distance and the shock of some loony in the ER showing her her foot).
I'm sure the other ER patrons were a little mystified, and maybe she was too, but in the end, she looked like it was perfectly ok for another knitter so do what I'd just done. I wished her happy knitting, oblivious to the fact that if she was sitting in the ER, she probably wasn't too happy for any number of reasons, and continued out the door.
So if by chance any of my readers were sitting knitting a lovely bluish-green sock in the Beverly Hospital ER last night around 9pm or so, I apolgize for getting my knit-freak on while you were no doubt worried about a loved one or perhaps yourself. I hope whatever brought you there had you stumbling home happy and relieved some hours later.
Labels: socks
