So the Caveman has decided to waste no time proving that he is in fact all boy.
A few days ago I pick up the Caveman at preschool and go by his cubby and find a note. The note is from one of his teachers explaining that during nap time the Caveman was playing “moneys jumping on the bed.” Like the song goes one fell off and bumped his head. Only the Caveman fell off and hit his elbow.
Now the note told me that he cried and screamed but calmed down. Then during playtime anytime he would move his arm he would scream. So the teachers brought the Caveman inside and had the director of the preschool look at his arm. He was able to move it and it wasn’t swollen but she felt that I should know about it.
Fast forward to a mom running late to pick up her child because she has to get dinner into him and her as both are going to vacation bible school that evening. Only when I examined his arm his little hand was starting to swell and he wouldn’t let me touch his arm.
Loading the Caveman into the car I call Big Papi and let him know “hey AJ’s arm could be broken” YIKES! Seriously did I go there to that place where I am envisioning casts and more doctors appointments. Plus we are less than two weeks from our Sesame Place vacation. So I call Crazy Grandma who is a massage therapist to get her to look at the arm first. I do this for two reasons, one to validate that I am not an over protected mommy, and two to make sure that it isn’t that serious to go to the emergency room.
Well Crazy Grandma confirmed that I was not a over protected mom and that a trip to the emergency room was in order.
Now I have a choice to take him to our local emergency room or drive through rush hour traffic to take the Caveman to the children’s hospital. Thank goodness the Alien’s babysitter had no problem keeping the Alien longer so that we didn’t have to worry about her and the Caveman.
Big Papi, the Caveman, and I arrive at the Children’s Hospital of the Kings Daughter’s emergency room after fighting through a tunnel and silly slow drivers. I mean, come on don’t people know that I have a hurt Caveman in the back seat. At this point I am stressed out, my baby is in pain and Big Papi can’t seem to figure out where to park. I tell him the garage and he completely goes to another spot that has no parking. We go back to the parking lot. Then Big Papi wants to walk on the outside- I tell him it would be easier to go through the hospital. I am right again.
We finally make it to the actual emergency room where a cop, yes a cop with a gun in a children’s emergency room (WTF)! He gets the nurse who does some vitals and then sends us out to wait. Sitting next to us is a family with grandparents, aunts, and uncles all crying. At that moment I take a deep breath and thank God that though my child is hurt I at least know the worse thing could be a broken arm. All the sudden the family is being asked to go to the back and clergy is being called. I never saw that family again but my hope is that my instinct isn’t right and that child is fine.
After that I promised myself that no matter what I will not panic. Another nurse calls us and takes us back to an examination room. The Caveman is actually very charming and it shows why a children’s hospital is a need resource in a community. These medical professionals are able to get him to cooperate. The doctor is also wonderful and explains we will need x-rays to get some answers.
That is where the screaming starts. The x-ray techs could not have been more kind but need us to help hold the Caveman down and get his arm into the right positions. There is no pain worse for a mother or even a dad then having to be in a position to hurt your child. My child was screaming in agony and I was causing it.
The x-rays showed that the Caveman simply dislocated his elbow and the doctor just popped it right back in. Ten minutes later he has a red Popsicle in his hand and is laughing as the doctor blows bubbles in the air. A happy meal later and the Caveman is fine. Four days later I am still upset.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for making a comment. Please be nice and remember there is a real person writing this blog with real feelings!