Thursday, July 21, 2011

The Arm, part deux.

My kid is amazing. It needs to be said. I know that every parent thinks their kid is amazing, but mine was so awesome during these next 3 hours of the story. Stunningly so. Everyone kept saying it.

While we were still at home, the hubs had called in to work, but since he was under their "call-in window" they told him he had to come to work. If not, it was a final warning or termination. Go to work, I said. We don't need that added stress. But how sucky is that? To have to go to work when your child is "majorly" injured. We were too dazed at this point to argue it.

My kid's being a rock star started about now. By the time we got him buckled into the car, he had well finished crying. He was white as a ghost, but "calm" and quiet. I apologized several times to my mom and told her I needed her to stay with the kids. Of coarse, was the answer, just tell me what you need. I'm so glad they were there. 

My brother came to the hospital with me, as he knew I'd need help. I had to bring Huggyface since I am his favorite food source and favorite person, and I knew we'd be hours. But wrangling a broken arm and a stroller was not in the cards. Thank you, dear brother. You were A Godsend.

As we were leaving town, I just felt the need to pray. Sometimes, our prayers are not eloquent or with words aplenty, but God sees our heart. I prayed the shortest prayer ever, just thanking God for having my family present, and asking to cover our needs (medically) and to help with George's pain, amen. Ten seconds. Tops. And then I kept driving. Calmly.

At the hospital, they got him in immediately upon seeing the arm, and dispatched a call to the on-call orthopedic surgeon. (At the time of injury, the bone was probably protruding a 1/4" to 1/2".) Usually there can be a lot of waiting with emergency, but we either lucked out with it not being that busy (there were a lot more people there at midnight, that's for sure) or it was just. that. serious. Probably both. Either way, we didn't have to wait a ton of time to get things moving. The nurses did really great at talking to him and trying to divert his attention, and also at minimizing his pain. He would get a little freaked out whenever they would start touching him or wanting to do things but by explaining what they were doing, and getting reassurance from mom and uncle, he took it all just fine. It was pretty funny when one of the male ?EMT's was helping to get him undressed and said he'd have to cut off his shirt. George freaked out a little and said, "www wait. you're what? you're gonna cut my shirt?" high-pitched and with this wild look on his face. It was kind of funny, but I suppose he didn't understand why they would need to. I just told him yep, so they don't have to pull it over your arm, and that reassurance from mom that it's ok settled him right down. WHen he had the IV put in they loaded his arm up with numbing stuff first, which was helpful. The nurse explained step by step what she was going to do (and used the term straw instead of needle, Thank you, nurse - so helpful), and even though it still hurt, he just lay there watching, and took it all with the most amazing reserve of courage I've seen. 

This is my kid who is afraid of the dark, who can't watch shows about lion attacks or 48 Hours because he'll be traumatized for weeks, regardless of the consoling and convincing we try to give him. He'll sleep with his sister when he can't convince mom to let him sleep in her bed, and refuses to go upstairs alone, even during the day. Nightlights... a MUST. He fears shots or pokes weeks in advance, even for the dentist. We, everyone - nurses, attendants, doctors - were so awed by how brave he was, and kept saying so. There was never any fuss, no crying, no kicking or screaming or knashing of teeth that you'd easily see in kids his age and even adults. He just took it all in stride. We even told him it was ok to be scared and cry if he needed to. Nope, he just held it all in with stoic bravery.

On his commute to work, Kong had called back and ended up on the phone with a company manager to discuss this situation. Fortunately he'd make a special allowance. Good thing, cuz I think that guy woulda crashed a semi. He was in no shape to be driving, honestly. So he was able to turn around and come to the hospital. Lucky for him, he missed most of the gory stuff with the IV and x-rays. Daddy doesn't do well with needles. And I was very glad to have him there with us.

One of the things the staff did to comfort George was to give him a handmade stuffed animal. The nurse brought it to him with a bandage around it's arm too, and asked him to name it. Ah, such a funny kid. He named it Ham Bone. We sure got a kick out of it and his funny sense of humor. Apparently it was part of a conversation earlier with his cousin and Grandpa, and also something to do with Spongebob or Aurthur. I dunno. He was drugged up when he told us the story.

George with Ham Bone

From the x-ray, it was pretty clear that both bones were broken, and the orthoped came in fairly quickly and talked to us about what was next - surgery. His injury was a compound fracture, a couple inches above the wrist, with the bone protruding out the front side of his arm. Obviously he would need surgery to set it, and there was a possibility he might need a pin to hold the bones in place (which he did). Fortunately, the break had missed the growth plate (a blessing). Amazingly, the doc said he should only be in a cast 5 weeks or so. Wow. So fast to heal.
I'm pretty sure I don't have to indicate where the break is on this picture.

We were all pretty freaked out but stayed calm and kept our jittery nerves below the surface as much as possible. Both mom and dad got a little teary with our first born child, but all in all we tried to make it a "no big deal" situation, while also expressing to George how brave he was and how proud we were of him. Also, how we would DEFINITELY be buying him that Lego toy he'd been bugging me about all day. LOL Something to look forward to. I think he earned it.


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