Why I Hate Curling

As in Olympic curling.

Don't get me wrong. If I actually tried the sport I might actually enjoy it. But really, it looks super boring to watch.

Really boring.

And I should know. I watched HOURS of it last winter Olympics and I DESPISED it then too.
But I have a reason.

Four years ago, my mom, my sister, my sister in law and my soon to be sister in law were all over watching opening ceremonies with me and my three boys and my itty bitty baby boy. Itty bitty baby boy (S4) seemed to have a cough and I felt so bad for him, being all of a month old, having such an awful sounding cold.

I brought him in that next week for a check up with the pediatric office I love who has cared for all our boys and when they heard S4 do his barky cough they went from chit chat and “he's sooooo cute” to very quiet and very very very serious.

And I was very scared.

It turned out to not be just a bad sounding cough but RSV. My dear doctor looked me in the eye and told me “this is extremely serious. Only because I know you will get right back here am I letting you leave here with him. You go home, get arrangements for the boys, get what you need and immediately get right back up here. Immediately.”

And I became very very scared.

I was certain that at any moment my little precious baby would quit breathing. Forever.
My itty bitty baby was laid in a metal cage looking bed and hooked to a million (it seemed) cords where he was monitored constantly to make sure his oxygen would not dip below a safe point.

He was given masks of medicine. He was so tiny, so tiny, and locked in a big cold bed.

And then I was very very very scared.

As soon as the nurses left, I cradled him close to me and sobbed. And the only time I put him in that cold awful looking bed was when the nurses needed him to be. It wasn't too long before they just let me hold him during all the tests.

And the one and only thing on the TV the entire time I was there was curling. Hours of mind numbing curling to try to keep my mind off the fact that I was in the hospital with my very sick baby. And all I could do watching boring curling was despise it. And pray. Pray like I had never before.

We were there two nights and three days. His levels never dropped dangerously low and they sent us home wishing us the best and with lots of medicine.

And every time I see curling on the Olympics, that awful feeling in the pit of my tummy resurfaces and throughout the house all the boys here me holler about hating the sport and S4 wraps his arms around me and lets me know he loves me.

Oh, thank you God for blessings upon blessings. Even the blessing of curling, yes curling, to keep my prayers ever constant to you in my dark hours.