Jampa John

Today I am grateful my dad is still alive and well.  Three months ago (tomorrow) I got a call from my mom informing me my dad had been in a motorcycle accident.  He was okay, but was in the ICU in Cedar City.  I felt light-headed and sick to my stomach.  My dad rides his Harley a lot.  His riding advice is "Ride like everybody else on the road is trying to kill you."  I'm glad he follows his own advice, because a distracted driver that appeared to be heading straight through the intersection in the opposite direction started slowing down.  My dad was watching the car and realized that the driver didn't seem to notice him.  The driver turned suddenly right in front of him.  He had to lay his bike down to avoid colliding with the car.  Luckily, he always rides with a lot of protective gear.  Another blessing is that he was riding with his buddy, Dave Nutter, who was able to direct traffic around him so he didn't get run over while waiting for the ambulance.  He broke his clavicle, scapula and 7 ribs.  He had surgery (the first one ever done at this hospital.  The doctor had been trained in the procedure, but had never actually done it!) to pin his ribs together so they could heal better, and a separate procedure to realign his clavicle.  

Now he's back in the saddle and ready to pick up his new bike.  I'm slightly terrified, but trying to get over it:)

For awhile, I had to sing Liz a made-up lullaby she called, "Jampa John boke a bones," every single night--usually three times in row.  It all started because she wanted me to sing a song about Jampa John.  I started singing whatever came to my head to the tune of "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing."  It was a hit (she's easy to impress).  Here are the words:

Grandpa John broke his bones/

Riding on his motorcycle/

And they took him to the doctor/ 

To get him fixed up.

Now he's feeling so much better/

And he even goes to work/

And he loves his little Lizzie/

And loves to play with her.

Clearly it's not great poetry, but she loved hearing about her grandpa and feeling reassured that he's getting better all the time.  She stopped wanting the lullaby as soon as he stopped wearing his sling around.