Monday, January 6, 2014

It's Not a Party 'Til Someone Calls 911

"Charli, are you coming to church with us?" Alyx whispered, pressing her face close to the safety bar of the loft bed.
"Yeah," Charli mumbled. Then she tried to sit up. The nausea hit her like a heatwave. "No."

Yesterday we celebrated my sister's Sweet Sixteen with a 40's swing dance party. The event itself was fantastic. I pumped myself full of nose-spray and tylenol and set up the party with my family while Alyx and a few friends got ready at a house nearby. The party started at five. The first guest arrived at five-oh-three. We finally finished decorating around twenty after.

Despite only three of the forty-some-odd people there knowing how to swing dance, we had a blast stepping on each other's toes and twirling around. Alyx looked adorable. The rest of us looked okay, too. ;)

Out of the blue - or not really, considering DJ Josh had a special announcement for the birthday girl - instead of a 40's song, there came a favorite hip-hop song. The floor was vacated as we could barely swing dance, much less break dance. Alyx and a few friends eventually made their way back to dance in a little circle.

It was then that the party came to an abrupt halt - around quarter to eight - when our dear friend Katie collapsed with a dislocated knee. Since she's double-jointed pretty much everywhere, I honestly didn't see anything out of the ordinary until the paramedics arrived and stretched her out on her back. I have never seen a leg turned completely sideways at the knee.

She's not in much pain now (unless she's lying, which is possible, 'cause she's a trooper). She's got her brace and ice packs and crutches and her sister's wedding to walk down the aisle at on Saturday. I'd volunteer to carry her if I didn't think that would look funny. Oops.

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

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