Please note the picture below. I will let Lainey's own words (in this phone conversation) to her friend Addie explaining what happened.
Get ready for some run-on sentences.
Lainey said, "Yeah, I was twirling in the den and I got dizzy. I fell over on something hard, like something metal or something on the couch. . . then I put an ice pack on it--that didn't help. I started crying so hard that I had to go potty. Then we took some keys to a guy at the new house and then went to a t-ball game. . . (pause for a breath) and then I went to school (clearly the next morning) until recess and then went to a couple of doctors and they said it might be broken and it was broken. And then the lady told us to meet her at this place and it was the wrong place and then we went to the right place where they put castes (casts) on. Right now I am standing next to the couch. And you know what color it is? Kind of light blueish. It sort of matches my shirt. . . " (I think Addie realized lainey was talking about the color of the cast--not the couch)
Then 10 more minutes of more light conversation including who might win American Idol "either Chris or the other guy, but not your dad Chris--it's another guy named Chris." Lainey is nothing if not detailed and informative.
So there you have it folks. Lainey broke her arm last night after twirling in our den and braking her fall (literally) on the sofa. And then came into the kitchen (to see Kyle and I both) crying --some weird, never-heard-before cry--and exclaiming between sobs that she had broken her arm.
Like any good parent, we totally dismissed the whole broken arm thing. And dealt with the unending, starting-to-get-obnoxious crying. I mean it was dinner time and we had a t-ball game to get to. And plus, she is 5 almost 6--she doesn't know if she broke her arm or not. And did I mention that she has a flare for the dramatic?
Anywho, she was right. She did brake her arm. It is called a buckle fracture.
She has a cast. It is light blue. She has to wear it for 3 weeks or so. My plans to start living in swimming pools might be dampened a bit. (pun intended)
She is feeling good now. And can't wait to go show her teacher and fellow classmates her new cast!
All this after a not-so-fun-visit to another ENT on Monday.
Let me first start with this basic fact about me. I will do almost anything to NOT take multiple children to a doctor's visit. I loathe sitting in a germ-invested office trying to entertain children with crayons, books, granola bars, and an iPhone. All of that before you actually see a doctor. It is always a crap shoot (I am not sure that is the right way to spell or use that phrase). Sometimes it is ok and other times it is the stuff that anxiety attacks are made of.
But Rhody and Bo both had appointments with a new doctor. Just to get to know him and get him up to speed on their ears and the poor "drainage system" they seem to have inherited. And because I had a not-so-good experience with our other ENT.
Let me be as quick as possible. (I know, not possible)
The doctor comes in and introduces himself. I automatically called him by his first name instead of "Dr. RosenRosen*." I was immediately mortified that I was so casual and possibly disrespectful to this new doctor.
I am still hopeful because he does treat children in his practice and has four of children himself.
He looks at Bo first. Immediately a problem. Major, yucky fluid coming out of his ear. He decides to suction some which causes Bo to start screaming. He stops and tells me that he will have to put Bo in a harness (straight jacket) to get the rest.
We have done this before (with aforementioned doctor--remember the bad experience). It is a nightmare to have your child literally strapped down screaming for help. Just thinking about it-- I might start crying.
We move on to Rhody. He starts crying before the doctor looks into his ear. The doctor says, "Why is he crying? Kids his age don't usually cry?"
Wow. That is helpful and encouraging.
Could it be that he just saw his brother screaming when you did something to his ears? Of course, it is Rhody and tears are not hard to come by with him.
Anyway, I called my mom to come get Rhody the heck out of that office before we do the straight jacket procedure with Bo. It might possibly scar Rhody more. And I would have 2 screaming boys (and pregnant) wanting me.
It's over now but it wasn't pleasant.
Do they teach "bed side manner" anymore in med school?
Off to watch Idol!
*Doctor's name changed.