Then one's husband decides to attack a large logging chipper truck.
(Okay, I'm joking. The truck was stopped in the lane in front of him, and Adam didn't realize it had stopped. He was sailing along at 17 mph. Lanes are not parking lots.)
He was way out in the county when this occurred, and the rescue folks decided to airlift him to the hospital, which is a 90-minute drive by ambulance, but a quick flight. (Cha-ching)
When I arrived at the hospital, the first thing I saw was his helmet (a motorcycle helmet, no less) and the scrape on the front. See it?
So, Adam will be in here until at least Monday and perhaps Tuesday, and he can't put any weight on the leg for three months. No sailing this summer for him :( No pulling the boat out of the water any time soon to be worked on. He will have to cut down on some of his peripheral activities, and his exercise will be non-existent, so his weight loss will slow. Ah, the vagaries of life!
On another pitiful note, Beau had his fix-it surgery on Thursday morning, just hours before Adam's accident. He wears his cone of shame and takes his meds and looks generally oppressed.