Them's the Breaks!

I have been inducted into yet another level of the Halls of Motherhood. I had to deliberately enforce high levels of excruciating pain upon one of my children, all in the name of healing her. I think I would have rather passed on this badge of "honor" and gone to something much more pleasant and useful. You know, like teaching my child how to field dress a deer without cutting herself or something along those lines.

Thing Two decided that late Sunday evening would be a good time to slip and fall on pennies in her room, banging her elbow against the corner of her dresser. She was in a lot of pain, but there was no bruising or swelling, so we gave her some pain medication and sent her to bed for the night.

Monday morning, we woke her up before The Husband left the house to see what was going on. Her entire elbow area was swollen and she was still in a lot of pain even though she had managed to sleep through the night. Great. One trip to the doctor coming right up!

The poor thing couldn't get dressed without help and the trip into town was a nightmare for her with all the bumps along the way. After dropping Thing One off at school and letting the teacher know what was going on with Thing Two, we made our way to our local Urgent Care center.

We sat down to wait but were called back up to complete insurance information. While there, one of the nurses noticed the pain Thing Two was in and asked the right questions about why we were there and immediately sent us to X-ray.

In X-ray, I had to torture my 7-year-old by making her move her arm in the right positions to get the pictures. Her screams of pain could probably be heard throughout the entire building, I'm sure. Then we went to see the PA who diagnosed a fracture in the head of the big arm bone (the name escapes me except that it's NOT the radius or the ulna. Tibia?) and it was right near the growth plate.

Finally after getting a prescription of Vicodin for my 51-pound daughter, multiple calls to The Husband at work, putting her in a splint (more screams and tears) and getting an appointment to see the orthopedic specialist the next day, we made our way home. My poor child was so doped up on the Vicodin, she could barely eat her lunch, and ended up sleeping away much of the afternoon. I was exhausted as well, and managed to take a nap.

All evening long, Thing Two kept complaining that the middle part of her forearm was hurting, but because of the type of splint she had on (made of this all-in-one fiberglass and padding thing) we weren't able to figure out what was going on. At least we knew that the splint was probably coming off at the doctor's appointment anyway so we could figure it out then. In the meantime, more drugs for my little darling so that she could actually sleep at night.

Tuesday morning, my little one is still in way more pain than she should be. We get to the doctor, and he lets us know that the fracture isn't as bad as the PA thought it might be and that her growth plate wasn't involved. Whew! One thing down. But why is she in this much pain and in an area that wasn't affected by the fracture? Doctor wants to put her in a different splint anyway, so away we three go to the casting room to figure things out.

We peel away the bandages holding the splint onto Thing Two's arm and between the nurse and I we manage to get the splint off. Again, much pain, much crying and many, many tears were involved. And lo and behold, there it was. On her forearm, there was a two inch long by half inch wide welt that was caused by the fiberglass of the splint buckling and digging into her arm. It was a HUGE bump (about 1/2 of an inch deep) to put against my child's arm and then be lashed tightly against it. No wonder we couldn't even touch her arm without her being in such pain!

The doctor gave the staff the best, most complete and most *respectful* tongue lashing I have ever heard in my life. They were to no longer use this particular product because it was trash and he didn't want to see ANYONE in a cast or splint that wasn't made from plaster instead of the fiberglass that they used on Thing One. Instead of just telling the nurses to make a new splint, he then proceeded to make from the plaster strips and padding strips a hand-made splint that goes down the back of the arm, holding it at a 90-degree angle. Color me impressed!

And wouldn't you know it, the pain level for my little one went down. Amazing what happens when a splint is applied properly!

I have to say that these last two days could possibly be described as the worst in my entire life. They say you always hurt the ones you love. But I would rather throw myself in front of a bus before having to hurt my child that way again.

Get well soon, Jitterbug! Mommy loves you!