Yesterday was James’ orthepedic surgeon appointment. (You know it’s bad when in order to make the orthopedist appointment you pull out your other child’s medical records to get the name and number.) Both Kris and I took James to it. (Annika played at the neighbors.) It was the least dramatic broken arm appointment in the history of broken arm orthopedist appointments. We waited for a while to be called back. Then we were ushered into a room with zero kids books or magazines so we made due with a Car & Driver (look at the cars James!), a hunting magazine (ignore the guns and dead animals James!) and a women’s magazine (Find the mommies James!) before we resorted to making silly faces at each other and singing the ABC’s. (Side note: James makes the goofiest, silliest faces now and he cracks me up every time. I have to get it on video and in some pictures stat!) Finally the doctor came in and said the x-ray taken on Monday looked good. No setting or surgery needed. A child’s bones (especially a child as small as James) can be up to 20degrees off and still heal perfect straight. And they don’t have to be end to end either (which James’ aren’t – they are slightly next to each other). His plan was to cast it, x-ray it and have us come back in one week for another x-ray to check on it. Then we’d come in three weeks after that to have the case taken off. Four weeks total. Wow, kids heal fast! The doc was gone in less than three minutes. The nurse came in and together she and I casted James’ arm. First James picked out what color cast he wanted (blue, naturally). He actually wanted blue and yellow but they didn’t have any yellow. He was a little annoyed by that. Then the nurse took the splint off and while I held James’ arm in place she put the cotton and fiberglass material around it. Then we had to sit for a few minutes to let it dry. Next was the x-ray (much easier this time with the cast in place – no pain in twisting his arm to get the needed views) and then one last two minute visit by the doc (x-ray looks fine, see ya in a week!). Done.
James has adapted well to his broken arm. If you ask him what’s wrong with his arm, he’ll tell you it’s broken. He’s sleeping fine (Although could someone please make the child sleep past 6:20am again? PLEASE?). He’s eating well, becoming more adept at left handed utensil holding. Otherwise Kris or I help feed him. Finger foods are our friends. He’s even figured out how to play with his Duplos. He can put them together one handed and then to take them apart he sticks one piece in his mouth and “breaks” off the other piece by wrenching it off. Smart boy! In order to do bath time and sandbox time we wrap his arm in a plastic bag with a tie at the top and that seems to work pretty well.
Annika was pretty careful with her little brother at first too. She’d help him up the stairs or make sure he was OK. Now it’s basically back to normal for her. Yes, James has a broken arm – doesn’t mean they can’t run and fight and ride toys down the hill by the house! Ugh. She’s also got quite the attitude lately. I tell her no and she yells back at me “You’re making me so mad!” or “You’re hurting my feelings!” I’m just waiting for the first “I hate you!” or “You don’t love me!” to come out of her mouth. Of course two minutes later we’re cuddling and telling each other how much we love each other. And Kris thinks I’m bipolar…
Me? I’m doing better. I think I’m going through the stages of grief. I’ve come to the defensive/anger stage. I don’t want to talk about what happened. I don’t want people judging me. (Two year old with a broken arm! Bad mother! I see your stares in Target!) I just want my boy to get better and move past this. The guilt is still there and he WILL be wearing a helmet next time he’s on the horse (Side note: I told Kris yesterday after the appointment that we need to buy James a helmet and we hear James from the backseat shouting “Yay! A helmet! I love helmets!”) but other than that, what are you going to do? He’s a kid. I forsee sprains and stitches and maybe even more broken bones in our future. And I’m sure each one will be traumatic and stressful…for me.