The Arm Story

So, I know some of you have heard this already. BUT, wanted to write this down as part of our family journal/record/guilt-inducing documentation for future use (i.e. "Take out the trash! Because when you were 5, you broke Grace's arm, that's why!").

Two Saturdays ago, Adam and Grace were sitting in the recliner, watching Saturday morning cartoons while I scrubbed the kitchen sink. They began fighting about something of the utmost importance:

Who had more of the chair.

I remember arguing about such things with my brothers. But, come on! My kids are so much better than that.

I know, right? I'm laughing, too.

Anyway, they both fell off. And Grace began crying. And I told both of them to stop horsing around. Twenty minutes or so later Grace was still crying. Which is not unusual, as she really likes attention. Especially when Adam has done something to her. And she will continue to cry until retribution is made.

Frustrated with the state of the spice cabinet that I was trying to clean, I did what any loving mother would do:

I told her she was fine, and to move on.

I mean, she fell a foot onto carpet for Pete's sakes! And then when she was still crying a little while later, and asking for the doctor, I began to worry.

And really, really feel like a bad mom.

I called Mike at work, crying, and he came home from work, and got Adam and then went back to work, leaving me to decide what to do. I just couldn't have imagined that she had done anything more than maybe sprained her wrist. So, I called her doctor. He told me to ice it, etc.

I kept her home from church the next day. And she seemed to be doing better.

And then Monday she was still crying about it. So, I called the doctor who refused to see her. Mike went to 2 urgent cares. Who refused to see her. He went back to our doctor to beg for a radiologist referral, and they refused. So he went to the E.R.

They took some x-rays and told us that they had no idea. And gave us a referral to an orthopedic surgeon.

Thanks.

Mike and Grace went the next day, where they took more x-rays. Which brings Grace's x-ray total to 5 in the past 5 months.

I'm expecting a thank you note any day from the radiologist, who no doubt, got to go on a cruise with our family's radiology needs alone this year. Seriously.

SO, anyways. The deal with the arm is this: there is a mass of blood around her elbow, which is a sign of a fracture. It can take up to 2 weeks in children for a fracture to show. So, even though they aren't seeing a fracture in her elbow right now, they are afraid that there is one, and are treating it as such. On Thursday, I get to bring her back in, where they will take off her cast and x-ray it again (seriously... is that amount of radiation in a 2-year-old safe? I mean that will make 6), and see where we stand.

Hopefully things have cleared up, and she will be fracture-free.

If not, it's going to be a L-O-N-G eight more weeks in a cast.

When I was in elementary school, I always envied people with casts. They got to have friends sign them and all sorts of attention, and it just looked fun.

Don't pretend none of you felt that way, too.

Or do, so I don't look crazy.

But, seriously, casts are not fun. They stink.

Literally.