As a working mum I had to trust my son, we were close and I always made sure the door was left wide open, even late at night. And as each summer progressed and he grew older so he would come home later and later. I can’t say that this arrangement thrilled me but he did come home.
I heard him come in and go to bed, late one night so I went to sleep. The next morning I took him a cup of tea and was about to sound off with: ‘and what do you think..?’ etc you know the speech if you have teenage kids.
I’m looking at a battered and bruised head.
‘Sit up.’
My son sits up.
I clasp my hand to my mouth!
His jaw is out of alignment with the rest of his face by some considerable distance.
‘Why didn’t you wake me?’
He can’t reply. His jaw is unable to operate.
That was one of the hardest days of my life. Needless to say I never made it into work. Getting him from one hospital to the next (three in all) until we finally arrived at the Maxillofacial unit where they wired up his jaw late that afternoon.
That night he had his first meal. A Roast dinner, with all the trimmings, liquidised! Basically a very nutritious gravy sucked eagerly through a large straw.
To this day he still says it was the best meal ever!
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