Okay, Gods, Joke's Over, Not funny

Not even funny once.

Tris went off to Camp Winston. He was having a great time, apparently.

On Wednesday, I had finally locked the toilet back down where it was supposed to be. There was a 5.0 inter-crustal earthquake. This was interesting enough since I thought it was blasting from the highway construction over the ridge at first... until it went on too long and got stronger as opposed to fading off. A good thirty seconds.

That was roughly around the time that Camp Winston called be to say "Tris is fine, he had a fall and hurt his ankle, we're taking him to get an x-ray just to be sure... but it's probably not broken, since he says it doesn't hurt so bad."

Okay.

So I'm sitting trying to work, watching the torrential rains. Then I find out that a tornado has touched down at Midland. This is about twenty minutes away from where they've taken Tris.

Sheesh.

Now they call me and tell me its broken. We do the hospital shuffle and get referred to the osteosurgeon in Barrie.

Friday morning we drive down. I'm now at Karen's place since it is an hour closer to the hospital (my animals... I brought the dogs, the cats have food and water both)
Thank the Gods I don't have the chickens and ducks and turkeys yet. And they say yeah it's a bad break, he needs surgery and asap.

Tomorrow (i.e. today) He can't eat today, just clear fluids. And he goes under the knife to try and fix the ends of the bone.

The one bone was injured right at the growth plate so it is possibly damaged from further growth. I really, truly hope not. But once everything is back where it belongs and he's in a true cast for months to let it heal up, we'll hit him with the homeopathics and shiatsu.

You know, this wasn't funny even the first time.