Man, those kids in the Wasa, B.C. 4-H Club are tough. I bet
you don’t get membership there just on good looks and a great brownie recipe.
It was great to have a brief visit with Bryce Bostock at
lunch today. He probably wouldn’t
be a chatter box with me at the best of times – more of a strong, silent type –
what he’d been doing so far this day – a little more than a week after
suffering a life-threatening head injury in an ATV accident.
He still has this mini railway track across the top of his
half-shaved head – 167 steel staples (stitches), where they had to cut and
remove a piece of skull to release pressure on the brain and insert monitors.
At least I think it was related to the accident. He might just be going through
a punk or goth phase these days. Some kids are into that.
He had a smile and told me he had been for a pretty good
walk down the hall (with some assistance), had a shower, talked to his dad and
think that “real hospital food’ is what they call an oxymoron – look it up, Bryce). He read me the
handwritten note in a card that a friend from Cranbrook had sent his Mom. He felt
good, no real aches or pains. He’s bored out of his tree, but what’s a guy to
do. He’s stuck there with his Mom and Grandma and he’s heard all their stories.
Tomorrow, Tuesday, he said he is moving to the third level
of ICU where he will do more walking and start on a few exercises to get his
muscles going. He may even do a bit of writing to improve that penmanship, (but
let’s face it, I think this bunch has used up all its miracles for this year.)
Unfortunately his vocabulary revolves around some four-letter
into deep trouble I would gladly smuggle the kid in a burger and a shake (guys
with appetites have to look out for each other). And as far as the ‘Home’ word
is concerned, well, there is no firm timetable, but it appears the prospect of
getting Bryce back into his bed in Cranbrook is being measured now more by a
couple or a few weeks, rather than months.
That’s good, because I hear his chores at home are piling