More adventure than we bargained for
Tuesday, I suggested to my wife that we take a family trip to Xiang Shan, Fragrant Hills. This beautiful spot on the western edge of Beijing is famous for its leaves in the Fall. Lately, we have been too busy for much in the way of family outings. We debated the wisdom of using the little free time we have in such a way. But the day was beautiful and the season is beginning to get colder. We finally elected to go.
While Becky was in her college classes, I did some studying and then went shopping. I got all the necessities for a good lunch. Then we came home, packed the lunch, dressed the kids, and headed out the door. The whole trip required taking four buses over two hours and then a fifteen minute walk to reach the main gate of the park. During the ride, we ate our lunch of delicious meat and cheese sandwiches (along with lettuce, tomato, and onion!), chips, cookies, and tea. Then the kids slept on us while we talked, changed buses, found seats, talked, changed buses, found seats...You get the point.
After getting off the last bus and taking a brisk walk up a hill through some winding streets filled with tourists, we arrived at the park. It was beautiful. We strolled up and down the paths, and then found a place to sit and relax. After a few snacks, Josiah went off a little ways to play. I joined him at playing swords with sticks as well as a few rounds of hide-and-go-seek; Mom sat guard over our stuff. Amelia, Josiah, and I discovered lots of neat little places and flowers. Setting off with Mom again, we tried to find the little paths to explore. We took some pictures and posed for even more pictures for people thrilled to be photographed with foreign children. We were having a great little adventure.
About ten minutes 'til five, we decided it was time to get going. So we headed back toward the front gate. As I was walking holding Amelia, Josiah and his mother were playfully having a little sword fight while leisurely going toward the front gate. Amelia had her own stick sword, so I took her up behind Josiah. She playfully 'stabbed' Josiah in the shoulder. Laughing, Josiah turned from his mother to glance at his new adversary. While his face was turned back toward Amelia and me, he kept walking forward. As he turned his head back to the front again, he tripped over a small curb and ran right into the short fence lining the pathway. Had he hit that fence in any other way, it probably would have been nothing. But the top of that fence, where the post stuck out a little, met Josiah just above the right eye. Josiah instantly cried and covered his face. As Becky knelt to comfort him, the full extent of the damage became apparent when we saw blood gushing out from between his fingers. Josiah panicked. In seconds his face was covered in blood and so was his mother.
I quickly picked him up and we went running towards the front gate. As we ran, I thought we must have looked like a scene in Iraq just after a bombing: father running with bloody-faced boy. It occurred to me that with all the fear and the urgency we felt, this still did not compare to the terror inflicted by the Islamic bombings that occur so regularly in so many parts of the world. But at that moment I realized a little of the panic and indecisiveness that must threaten the hearts of victims at those times.
We came across a police substation, and they immediately drove us to the nearest hospital. There the doctor kindly looked at our son. He offered to stitch it up, but he advised us to go a better hospital where they would have access to smaller, less scaring stitches. The policeman, who had treated us with much kindness, took us to a taxi and explained to the driver where to take us. Meanwhile, Josiah had calmed down and just wanted to sleep. Twenty minutes later, we were walking into our second hospital.
There was no delay in helping us. The doctor was very kind and professional. He knew a few of the English terms which made it easier. Josiah was not about to let anyone hurt him anymore. Basically, the word cooperative was not coming to mind to describe my boy at that point. My initial plan was to just hold him down while the doctor stitched him up, but the doctor and nurse would not stand for that. They decided to sedate him somehow. However, Josiah had recently eaten some snacks at the park, so they said we must wait until 10:00pm to give him the medicine. I would not stand for that. I began gently talking to Josiah trying to help him understand the importance of letting them give him the stitches. Then I prayed with him for a few minutes. I asked the doctor to try. My brave boy cried some, screamed some, and wiggled some. But basically he just laid there asking me how much longer while his lower lip quivered. Six stitches later it was all over.
A friend from Chang Ping, who is a taxi driver, came and picked us. We tried to ease Josiah's pain by getting KFC for dinner on the way home. We arrived home before nine o'clock, but to Becky and me it felt more like midnight. By that time, Josiah was feeling a little better and even wanted to play with his cars.
What was supposed to be a fun, inexpensive, little adventure turned into a bigger, far more expensive adventure than we bargained for. At the rate Josiah has been racking up scars and bruising his teeth, he is beginning to look like a town bully who keeps meeting a bigger bully. However, he is just his same happy self, ready to get up and try again--at full speed.
Please keep him and us in your prayers.
While Becky was in her college classes, I did some studying and then went shopping. I got all the necessities for a good lunch. Then we came home, packed the lunch, dressed the kids, and headed out the door. The whole trip required taking four buses over two hours and then a fifteen minute walk to reach the main gate of the park. During the ride, we ate our lunch of delicious meat and cheese sandwiches (along with lettuce, tomato, and onion!), chips, cookies, and tea. Then the kids slept on us while we talked, changed buses, found seats, talked, changed buses, found seats...You get the point.
After getting off the last bus and taking a brisk walk up a hill through some winding streets filled with tourists, we arrived at the park. It was beautiful. We strolled up and down the paths, and then found a place to sit and relax. After a few snacks, Josiah went off a little ways to play. I joined him at playing swords with sticks as well as a few rounds of hide-and-go-seek; Mom sat guard over our stuff. Amelia, Josiah, and I discovered lots of neat little places and flowers. Setting off with Mom again, we tried to find the little paths to explore. We took some pictures and posed for even more pictures for people thrilled to be photographed with foreign children. We were having a great little adventure.
About ten minutes 'til five, we decided it was time to get going. So we headed back toward the front gate. As I was walking holding Amelia, Josiah and his mother were playfully having a little sword fight while leisurely going toward the front gate. Amelia had her own stick sword, so I took her up behind Josiah. She playfully 'stabbed' Josiah in the shoulder. Laughing, Josiah turned from his mother to glance at his new adversary. While his face was turned back toward Amelia and me, he kept walking forward. As he turned his head back to the front again, he tripped over a small curb and ran right into the short fence lining the pathway. Had he hit that fence in any other way, it probably would have been nothing. But the top of that fence, where the post stuck out a little, met Josiah just above the right eye. Josiah instantly cried and covered his face. As Becky knelt to comfort him, the full extent of the damage became apparent when we saw blood gushing out from between his fingers. Josiah panicked. In seconds his face was covered in blood and so was his mother.
I quickly picked him up and we went running towards the front gate. As we ran, I thought we must have looked like a scene in Iraq just after a bombing: father running with bloody-faced boy. It occurred to me that with all the fear and the urgency we felt, this still did not compare to the terror inflicted by the Islamic bombings that occur so regularly in so many parts of the world. But at that moment I realized a little of the panic and indecisiveness that must threaten the hearts of victims at those times.We came across a police substation, and they immediately drove us to the nearest hospital. There the doctor kindly looked at our son. He offered to stitch it up, but he advised us to go a better hospital where they would have access to smaller, less scaring stitches. The policeman, who had treated us with much kindness, took us to a taxi and explained to the driver where to take us. Meanwhile, Josiah had calmed down and just wanted to sleep. Twenty minutes later, we were walking into our second hospital.
There was no delay in helping us. The doctor was very kind and professional. He knew a few of the English terms which made it easier. Josiah was not about to let anyone hurt him anymore. Basically, the word cooperative was not coming to mind to describe my boy at that point. My initial plan was to just hold him down while the doctor stitched him up, but the doctor and nurse would not stand for that. They decided to sedate him somehow. However, Josiah had recently eaten some snacks at the park, so they said we must wait until 10:00pm to give him the medicine. I would not stand for that. I began gently talking to Josiah trying to help him understand the importance of letting them give him the stitches. Then I prayed with him for a few minutes. I asked the doctor to try. My brave boy cried some, screamed some, and wiggled some. But basically he just laid there asking me how much longer while his lower lip quivered. Six stitches later it was all over.
A friend from Chang Ping, who is a taxi driver, came and picked us. We tried to ease Josiah's pain by getting KFC for dinner on the way home. We arrived home before nine o'clock, but to Becky and me it felt more like midnight. By that time, Josiah was feeling a little better and even wanted to play with his cars.What was supposed to be a fun, inexpensive, little adventure turned into a bigger, far more expensive adventure than we bargained for. At the rate Josiah has been racking up scars and bruising his teeth, he is beginning to look like a town bully who keeps meeting a bigger bully. However, he is just his same happy self, ready to get up and try again--at full speed.
Please keep him and us in your prayers.
posted by William Maricle | 12:25 PM
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