I know I’ve shared with you that my son attends Art College in New York City. We dropped him off for his second semester of freshman year about ten days ago.
He and his roommates were skateboarding in Central Park when he twisted his ankle badly. Insurance card in hand, he managed to get himself into a cab and to an emergency room where he was wrapped and sent off on crutches. He called us in the evening to tell us what transpired. My husband was proud of him for handling the whole situation so maturely. I, on the other hand, wanted to rush into Manhattan, tuck him into bed and make him pasta e fazuli soup (my Italian Mom’s recipe for all that ails you!).
This past weekend my son called to say his ankle was still badly swollen. It had rained all week in New York making getting around difficult, especially as he was buying and lugging art supplies. My heart is now tugging so I answered that maybe his grandmother and I would take a ride in on Monday evening and take him to dinner. He was very happy with that!
When we arrived Monday evening he was finally off the crutches although the swelling was still evident. We walked a few blocks to a Cuban restaurant which had the most delicious food…rum battered chicken, shrimp and salmon to die for over fresh spinach and deep fried plantains. All so good!
Feeling like I had at least filled his belly, we dropped him off and came home contented—we had done our matronly duty!
Until the next morning when he called me to tell me he had been throwing up all night and did I think he had food poisoning? Apparently—no one ate the salmon but him!
So there’s my baby in Manhattan—crutches, swollen ankle, and food poisoning!
We told him plenty of fluids, email his professors as it might be a few days…but a BIG part of me wants to just wrap him in a blankie and stick him right back in his crib!!