summer bummer

Well, as you may know, Henry learned to swim last week.  I was planning to videotape it, but I kept forgetting the camera.  Now it looks like you'll all have to wait 4-6 weeks.

So, yesterday, we had plans for a park breakfast with Marthe, Eric, and little Mira at San Felasco.  We got there a little after 9.  The kids ate some bagel but were soon off to the playground.  The grown ups and babies were at the table discussing such all important topics as My Little Ponies and teaching or not teaching, for Eric is a teacher, too.   Then, Marthe and Mira took a long walk over to the water fountain to rinse Mira's cup.  In the meantime, Henry managed to fall off the monkey bars and, to quote him directly, "I sat on my wrist."  I saw him crying and got up to walk over to him.  This guy over there says, "It's pretty bad."  So I jog.  I pick him up carefully and start calling to Patrick because I really don't want to look.  Patrick comes over, looks.  I say, "Is it bad?"  He says "Ummm..." in a high-piched way he does when he means yes. (I assume he's not wanting to freak Henry out.  Or me.)  I say, "Do we need to go somewhere?"    He says, "Yes."  Henry says, "I don't want to go to the hospipal!"  I tell him everything will be okay.  I bring Henry over to the car, and as I put him in his seat, I catch a glimpse of his wrist.  It looks like the letter S.  I almost throw up.  I go back to the table, and Eric and I start frantically cleaning up.  Well, I'm frantic.  Eric, not so much.  It's not really his style.  I throw everything in the car, jump in, and just as we are backing out, Marthe and Mira return.  Marthe has a smile on her face, but she is looking at Eric like, "Why are they leaving?  What did you say?"  

So, first we go to the urgent care center up the street.  They don't take kids 5 and under.  So, I am about to call the pediatrician, when Nahum (our friend, a doctor) calls me back.  (I had called him to see where we should go.)  He told us to head to the ER at "Big Shands."  So, we are CLEAR across town, and poor Henry had to suffer what would end up being a 30 minute drive from the time we left the park to the time we got there.  On the way we called the Nana to come meet up and bring C & M to her house.  Patrick dropped H & me off and went to park.  Luckily, the waiting room was EMPTY when we walked in.  Patrick came in about 10 minutes later, and we were called into triage almost immediately.  The nurse said it most certainly looked broken, and called it a FOOSH.  Falling On OutStretched Hand.  Or something like that. While we were in triage, Nana called announcing her arrival, so P took the kiddos out to her while I did some paperwork.  Henry was a trooper the whole time.  As long as he knew he wasn't getting a shot, he was good.  Patrick came back just in time for us to be put in the room.  All this happened quickly, as I think we were in the room by 10:45, having left the park at 9:45 or so. 

 Then time stood still. 

He had some x-rays done, and I could see the break in the bone.  (I don't know which one, so don't ask.)  Then we sat in the room for a while.  Then they came to tell us they would have an Ortho come and set his arm in a cast with a bi-valve or something.  Then we sat in the room for a while.  Then we signed some papers saying we were aware that giving a child ketamine could result in blah, blah, blah, hallucinations, blah blah, night terrors, blah blah, death, blah...wait, what?  So, this was the hardest part of the day for me.  Looking at the s-shaped wrist?  Hard.  Holding him down while they put in the IV and he shrieked like an angry mockingbird, and us trying not to laugh?  Hard.  Watching the beefy ortho bend my little boy's wrist backward like it was made of taffy?  Not easy.  But signing those papers and watching as they administered the ketamine was on of the hardest things I have ever done.  I'm sorry if you think I am a little dramatic.

So, I guess you get an idea what the rest of it was like (waiting, Henry shrieking, waiting, Henry worrying that there was going to be more things that hurt, waiting, Henry dozing while Hulk Hogan flings Henry's little wrist around, waiting, waiting, Henry drinks Gatorade (we are at Shands) , Henry walks, discharged at 4:00.)

I will call tomorrow for an appointment for his cast.  Stupid Ortho suggested he get a tacky orange and blue cast.  Sigh.  Gators.  Oh, I mean, Go Gators!  

So, that is how we spent our Saturday.  Henry is doing well now, he has very little pain, and he walks around holding his arm up in the air.  We told him he needs to elevate it so it doesn't swell too much.  He gets to go to kindergarden with a cast, so hopefully that is still cool.  I know it was cool when I was a kid.  Ceci will occasionally reach over and touch his cast, then ask, "Why Henry is wearing that on his arm?"  I guess she keeps forgetting it is there.  The hardest part for her is that she needs to sleep on the top bunk now because Henry can't climb up there with one hand.  Well, he probably could, but Mommy won't let him.  He's done enough climbing for now.