Not Listening and Trying to be Nice

Andy plays basketball on Wednesday nights. This is currently his only form of exercise (aside from wrestling occasionally with kiddos - which doesn't really count), and we sacrifice family time to fit it in. Andy was so excited to play today - he had his first test and just needed to get the excess stress out.

I kept thinking/hearing, "Tell him not to go tonight." (NO - he needs the exercise!) "Tell him to wait until this kid doesn't come anymore." (valid point - overzealous teen that plays a little too seriously and took out someone's knee last week - but Andy needs the exercise) Did I listen? No. As he is walking out he door, I called out, "Be safe! Don't get hurt!!!"

Sadly, I hear the door open at 10:04 - way too early for basketball to be over. My heart starts pounding, especially when I don't hear footsteps going into the kitchen for water. Just a call for "Ice, please. NOW!" and pitiful steps down stairs. Over the next ten minutes I got a few more details (yep, that kid - this is the part I'm trying to be nice about). So, lots of prayers later, I'm up at 4:02 this morning unable to go back to sleep - vacillating between lots of ANGER that the game was so stupidly rough (on a short carpet court) to ANGST for not listening to WORRY because he thinks there is something broken and not only does he not have time to go get x-rays but that whole insurance part of our lives hasn't fallen into place yet - although applications are in, so hopefully coverage will start with application date, not approval date...

This is my poor husband who can get stitches with no medication and not even flinch, to almost whimpering because the pain is so great while trying to walk. Great... no more church ball for us... :(