Helmets and Guns

The short story:

Caleb loves nerf guns.  Part of my skull is missing.  I imagine a nerf bullet hitting my brain.

Caleb got two new nerf guns for Christmas.  I got scared and bought a helmet.  We have a new rule.  No shooting nerf guns in the house unless Mom is wearing her helmet.  The first time Caleb's buddy came over and heard the rules, he started cracking up.  He thought I was joking.  No way man!  I got to have my helmet on if you are going to fire your weapon.  This is a battle field.

IF you fire a gun and Mom is not wearing her helmet, the weapon is confiscated.

Day 1 - three weapons confiscated.
Day 2 - one weapon confiscated.
Day 3+ - lesson learned.  Bam! Bang!

The Long Story:

The first time I was discharged from the hospitals, Argerich and Italiano, in Buenos Aires, where I left part of my skull, I was required to wear a helmet.  Not just in leaving, but at all times.  During my second admission to Italiano, the doctors weren't as concerned.  I could walk steadily, and daily I would break out of my ICU room with my IV pole and cruise the hospital without my casco.  I discovered the secret garden where I could breath fresh air and savor the sun on my face.

When I was eventually released, no one remembered or asked about my helmet.  I was happy and felt confident without it.  The neurosurgeons in the US provided a spectrum of suggestions from: wear a helmet always - even when sleeping, to, a helmet is only necessary when I am participating in dangerous activities -  like baseball games.  

I didn't know what to do.  In normal life I don't feel like a helmet is necessary.  On the other hand, I wonder if I am risking my mental health.  What if something comes flying at the 2.5 square inches of my head that has no bone protection.  My brain beats under a thin layer of skin. What to do?

The item on the top of Caleb's Christmas list was a nerf gun.  He enjoyed a tiny nerf pistol in our last Madryn house, and he was jonesing to size up.  Unbeknownst to him, Grammy and Nonno brought two to Madryn in November, and they were waiting for our return to Argentina.  

I knew they were in the house.  I knew how much he loved them.  I went to sleep at night visualizing him shooting the guns in our new house and having a nerf dart come flying at my unprotected brain.  My dreams reoccured over and over.  That did it.  Two days before we got on the plane, I told Adam I wanted a helmet.  It was too late to order the $1,100 personally fit helmet from Kaiser, so we went to the sporting goods store and bought a new lime green Bern.  

Next we went to Big Lots and bought a stacking set of bowls.  Adam busted out his skills and the dremel tool and created a plastic protector piece that fits inside my hat and covers my exposed brain.  I was feeling a little safer.  

In Argentina, we saved the box of Christmas presents for last when we were unpacking.  Everyone enjoyed the little surprises.  Carmela received a small sewing kit; Sojo a coin purse; art supplies for everyone, and finally, at the bottom of the box, a shriek of joy and exuberant "YES!" came when Caleb pulled out TWO new nerf guns.  He was thrilled beyond belief.  

And then... I told him the new nerf gun rule - Mom has to have on her helmet if you are going to shoot the gun.  Otherwise, the gun will be confiscated for an indeterminate amount of time.  The first time Caleb's buddy came over and heard the rules, he started cracking up.  He thought I was joking.  No way man!  I got to have my helmet on if you are going to fire your weapon.  This is a battle field.

If you shoot a gun and Mom is not wearing her helmet, the weapon is confiscated.

Day 1 - Three weapons confiscated.
Day 2 - ne weapon confiscated.
Day 3 and every day after - Lesson learned. Bam! Bang!