Yesterday, we added another broken bone to the White household. Two bones actually - a left radius and ulna belonging to my little baby. I can't believe it - still. He was trying to get on (or off depending on who's story is being told) the neighbor's trampoline. Yes, I know, who lets their 2 year old get on a trampoline?! But he loves it so much & is on it all the time. Even when I used to try to keep him off, I spent all of my time trying to get him off from the side - practically impossible. They don't have a ladder & there is usually something taller to help them climb up & down, but yesterday he used a little shopping cart. Anyway, he came home crying in a way I had never heard before. It was actually more of a whimper & a very slow walk home. Usually when he is "hurt", it is a loud, obnoxious cry & he is running to show me his boo-boo. I think I knew right away something was really wrong, but didn't want to admit it. When Steve picked him up outside, he felt the bones move. I took a look (from on top of his long sleeved shirt) and a little feel and knew it was broken. I instantly felt my own injury all over again and was almost sick for him. We splinted it and headed for the hospital. The ride wasn't too bad, except for the bumpy Raytown roads. He stopped crying, only an occasional whimper and even almost fell asleep. When we arrived at Children's Mercy's Urgent Care, they got us right in. Once in triage, the nurse asked him to look at the faces and tell her what his pain was. She showed him the first one which was happy and no pain. Then up to the last that was sad and "really wanted to cry". He pointed to that one while his bottom lip puckered and big tears started to well up. I almost lost it then. We told him then it was okay to cry if he needed to and the poor little thing just broke down. I had to wipe my tears away before he saw them. They then confirmed the break on a brutal looking x-ray. It looked like a snapped large twig, where it forms a "v". The doctor then informed us that the break was so bad it needed to be set & casted right away, but they don't do that there and we'd have to go downtown to Children's Mercy ER. He also said that they would start an IV, give pain meds and splint the arm prior to us leaving. During all this time, Brett had been such a brave little trooper. After the little break down in triage, he hadn't really even cried. This all changed when they came in to do the IV. He tried to be brave, but it took 4 attempts to get it in. This was extremely hard for me to watch as they blew one, dug around on the 2nd and I was looking at veins that looked good. She got another guy to come try and he was much better with his bedside manner, but by then Brett was done. It is so hard to watch your own baby go through what you do to others all the time. When the doctor stopped back in to check on things and said they were going to try to splint it with just the Ibuprofen he had on board I said, "NO. He needs something more. I've just recently gone through the splinting thing and he will have something before you start." I was quite proud of myself for saying it and actually being an advocate for my own child. I say this because I frequently kick myself after the fact for not insisting on something when we are dealing with health things and the kids. I think, if this were your patient you would stick up for them and for some reason as the parent I don't have the brain to think like a nurse. So they gave him some Fentanyl and turned in to a giggly, silly Brett. He started talking to everyone and laughing and it was so great so see this after all the tears. Splinting went off without a problem and we were off to Children's Mercy for setting. We got there at 6:45, a mere four hours after we'd left our house. It took another 2 hours for us to get into a room - a lot of broken bones yesterday in the 70 degree weather. Once in the room, it took about 30-40 minutes for someone to come in to see us, but then things got rolling. We were all tired, thirsty, hungry and ready to be done by this time. They told us the plan and Brett fell asleep about the time they got everyone needed in the room. We had to step out into the waiting room while they set his arm. About the only thing reassuring to me at this time was that the ER attending, whom Steve pointed out was probably the only one in the room older than us, was the one administering the conscious sedation. She reminded me of Lauren Cameron, a very trusted old Sigma Kappa advisor of mine. That was also comforting. We left our tiny little guy looking even tinier in this big bed, totally out of it to go sit in a small little room and wait. We just sat there for a few minutes before we could even talk and when we did I couldn't stop the tears. It was just all so overwhelming. I had to remind myself, out loud, that it could always be worse - we weren't in the trauma room, he could have broken worse things than just an arm. So after about 20-30 minutes, they came to get us and told us everything went great. Took him a while to come out of the sedation. He was quite funny while high. He would look at us and a big grin would spread across his face, but you could tell he didn't really know why he was smiling. We came home and sacked out on the couch together, Brett and I. It was so nice to snuggle him up. Today he made up a song that went something like this, "I wish I didn't have a broken arm. I wish Mommy didn't have a broken leg." We are a pair, my broken boy & I.
