Fish Hook Momma

Last week, when I checked my voicemail, here's what I heard, "Sarah, [sirens] the email I just sent to you is of your mother with a fishhook in her cheek. [more sirens] I have three treble hooks in my cheek. [even more sirens] and I'm on the way to the hospital. Okay, talk to you later!"

Here's what I heard: Your mother has multiple gashes in her face and is bleeding out and may die. I felt good that she was in an ambulance, but I was trying to make sense of how she was lucid enough to use a cell phone but was still in need of emergency services. I could just see her lying on the bed saying, "Peter, Peter! Hand me my cellphone. I need to take a picture and call Sarah! Oh, I'm going to have to talk on the other ear, but I can still make it work!"

Eventually, I found out that the damage was not as extensive as I had feared, that she had not been in an ambulance when she called (the sirens I heard were purely coincidental), and that she was asleep in bed by the time I called. It wasn't until that day that I was able to see the picture she was referring to. Here it is:

Ouch! I won't go into how this happened to protect the identity of the guilty party, but I will say that this could have been MUCH worse. After a week or so, Momma is doing just fine and will have very little scarring. My favorite part of the whole thing was Jeff's comment when I told him that my momma had a fish hook in her cheek. He thought for a second and said, "That must've been some bait!"