broken, broken, broken, broken

Ah...  Where to begin?

Two weeks ago, Matt called me after he had been gone to his Saturday morning church basketball game for only about a half hour.  He was tense and upset and told me that Shawn was coming to get him.  He was pretty sure he had broken his ankle.  He had landed on another player's leg when coming coming back down from a rebound.

Shawn (our next door neighbor and Matt's best friend for over 15 years) took Matt to the Urgent Care, then came back.  He and his wife, Stephanie, took Henry for the rest of the day, but not before they dropped me off at the church to pick up our car.  Matt's mom met me at the Urgent Care to wait with Matthew.

Um, yes, it was broken.  In at least four places.  He broke the outer long bone in his calf at about the half way point, and broke at least three of the ankle bones.  There were at least two chunks of bone floating unattached in the space near his ankle.  

The doctor kept look at the three of us with such pity.

So, they splinted his ankle and leg, gave him a narcotic prescription, and sent us home to wait for our appointment with the orthopedic surgeon the following Monday morning.  

It was really a crazy day.  We would not have made it though without our friends and family.  But...  more on that later.