Summer “break”
The summer after my 4th grade year in school, I was playing shortstop at softball practice when I experienced a career-ending injury. Somehow a ball bounced off the edge of my catching glove and hit my right hand at such an angle that it dislocated my little finger and broke a bone in my hand. My dad, the quiet, ever-calm family physician was watching from the bleachers. And, that evening he jumped the fence and ran onto the field in an uncharacteristically dramatic fashion. While I’ve never forgotten what it felt like the instant the orthopedist set my hand, I’ve also never forgotten my dad’s reaction the night it happened.
Unfortunately, yesterday gave me an opportunity to re-live that event from my dad’s perspective.
One of the most beloved toys in our playroom is a small slide called the Kangaroo Climber. We got it when the Preschooler was two, and both the older girls have played with it in some form or fashion almost daily for the past three years. Living up to its name, what was once a simple slide has in recent years become a climbing apparatus. So, they climb all over the top of the Climber and do various stunts from what I’ve always assumed to be a fairly safe height.
Yesterday the girls and I were in the playroom, all three of them still in pajamas, playing with various things. I was in the floor with the Baby and had my back turned to the Climber when I heard a crash and a scream. I turned around expecting to tend to a head bump, a bruise, … maybe a scrape.
But, all I can say about what I saw next is that I nearly fainted. I’ll try using short sentence explanations and you can fill in the details. The Toddler was crying. Her right forearm was obviously very broken. No arm should ever look that way. 45 degree angle. She must have hit the side of the trampoline as she landed. And, that’s really all the information I can share about the scene at this point.
I’ve probably mentioned this before, but I’m incredibly squeamish when it comes to medical emergencies. While many of my family members work in the field of healthcare, I’ve always thought I would make a much better dispatcher than first responder. Which is why I immediately panicked.
I knew the Spouse was at work and over an hour away from home. My mom {a nurse} was at work somewhere in the field and not answering her cell phone. My in-laws live out of town. My sister lives on the other side of town. Our neighbors on either side were at work. I knew I was alone and on my own to do something and to do it fast.
So, I scooped the Toddler up, trying unsuccessfully {but very hard} to remain calm while I consoled her, hid the severity of her injury from her sister, and called the Spouse to tell him to meet me ASAP at Children’s Hospital.
This is where adrenaline kicked in. Somehow, I took the Toddler and sat her on her bed and {without thinking} gently set her tiny, crooked arm back in some semblance of its original place. If it weren’t for that God-sent surge of parental adrenaline, I can say with certainty I would have thrown up and passed out on the spot.
From here, suffice it to say, we got ourselves in the car in record time and eventually to Children’s ER where they gave her some good pain medicine, x-rayed her arm, and cast it in place. Instead of belaboring every detail of the entire day, I’ll wrap the story up in a few bullet points:
* I am so thankful our city has a hospital just for children. From the bright-colored decor to the in-room movie options, they are so good with their small patients from start to finish.
* I am thankful for family who show up ready to do anything when we need them. The Spouse was there in record time. My sister and three-year old niece graciously dropped everything to meet us there to help with the girls. Grammy hopped in her car and drove all the way to town and took the Baby back home {after accompanying the Toddler to the X-ray room, per her request}. Mimi left a hectic day at work to stop by and check on {and feed} everyone. I’m more convinced than ever… it takes a village. And, I’m grateful for our “village.”
* I am thankful we are dealing only with a broken bone. In light of what too many parents are dealing with in pediatric hospital settings, I am grateful our trip was for something that can be mended to heal in time.
We’ll go today to see a pediatric orthopedist who will look at the X-ray and make a decision about the type of cast she’ll need to wear. We’re hopeful that her arm won’t need to be readjusted in any way and can simply be re-cast. We’ll have a good supply of M&M’s on hand, just in case.
All the while, the Toddler has been a real trooper. She hasn’t complained much at all. In fact, she’s warmed right up to the idea of being the patient. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve heard phrases like the ones below in the past forty-eight hours… as if we don’t know she has an injury.
“Momma, can you wash my hand… because I have a broken arm.”
“Daddy, can you scoot my chair up… because I have a broken arm.”
“Can someone pull my panties up… because I have a broken arm.”
“I can’t buckle my carseat… because I have a broken arm.”
“Can someone pull my panties up… because I have a broken arm.”
“I can’t buckle my carseat… because I have a broken arm.”
And, my personal favorite…
“Momma, can you put my sunglasses on… because I have a broken arm.”
It’s hard to accessorize with one hand.
Bless her heart (and yours)!
Oh my! I would have fainted Hollie! Praying for a speedy recovery.
<3 Julie
Goodness gracious! It sounds like quite the adventure 🙂 I am so glad that her arm didn't need to be reset and that your family was there for all of you. I'll be praying for a quick recovery.