So it's been over a month since I've blogged. It's been quite a month, that's for sure! Here's how we spent Violet's second birthday:
I brought a sitter with me to the mall to watch the kids while I was at skating practice as Scott was in rehearsal. I was just getting off the ice when the kids came around the corner of the rink. Birthday girl came running and smiling, sitter was pushing a teary Milo in the stroller. Hugged V, then sitter wheeled Milo closer and said, "He had a boo-boo that required a band-aid." At which point Milo burst into tears. I asked to see it, expecting the normal over-dramatics he puts out when he has "injuries", but something in his eyes stopped me dead in my tracks and I knew something was off. His arms didn't really look different than each other, but the way he was crying, coupled with the way he was holding his hand set off alarm bells. Loud, clanging, obnoxious alarm bells.
I started asking him what happened, what the sitter saw, if he could move it X or Y and didn't like the way things added up, so I told him we were going to go get some pictures taken just to make sure it wasn't a bad owie. Texted Scott, packed up my stuff and headed to find mall security to report the injury.
Found a mall cop and told him what happened. He was going to call for an ambulance, but I said that would terrify Milo and I was seeking medical attention on my own, that I just wanted an incident report so that when my insurance company called the mall, they could corroborate my claim. I wasn't insinuating that I was planning to sue and made that clear, but I knew that when my insurance adjuster sees the site of the accident, they would call the mall. For the record, I totally believe that this is a case of clumsy kid and not negligence -- he tripped in the soft play area and landed wrong.
Anyway, while I'm talking to the mall cop, Violet is climbing all over me, I'm juggling my wallet, phone, skate bag, and purse, comforting Milo and waiting for Scott to respond to the text (I texted him because I didn't want to interrupt rehearsal with a phone call). The number of things I was doing at this moment plays a part in this story later. Finish writing my account in the mall cop's notebook and head to the parking lot, load kids into the car and set out for the hospital.
Milo is crying, "I don't want to go to the hospital, I'm scared!" and Violet starts repeating, "I 'cared! I 'cared!" As we're headed out of the parking lot, I give up on Scott returning the text and call him, letting him know what's going on. He agrees to meet us at the ER and then we'll let the sitter take Violet home and put her to bed.
We arrive at the ER, I kiss Violet a thousand times and apologize for not being able to put her to bed on her birthday. Get Milo out of the car, send the sitter on her way, and register at the ER. I tell registration that he's very anxious, it's apparent as he's clinging to me with both legs and his left arm, crying softly into my neck. We take a seat and Scott comes flying through the doors in a matter of moments.
We're called back to triage and the doc apparently knows Scott's cousin's kids, so they chat about that and fast-track Milo to a room. Get in and settled and a nurse comes in, does vitals and gets Milo some ice. Then a resident comes in, asks Milo some questions, does a brief exam -- poor Milo was wincing, but not crying. Orders X-rays.
Milo then gets to take a bed ride to Radiology -- the techs were so sweet to him. I tell them we're trying to conceive and need to be out of the room -- they actually sent both of us out. Normally this would cause Milo to lose it, but he didn't. They take three pictures and wheel him back out. I pretend to chase him in slow motion, which makes him and the techs giggle.
The nurse is back with a pillow and some ice for his arm, says that it usually takes about an hour to read x-rays that time of night. We turn on Ice Age and Milo seems relaxed and drowsy.
35 minutes later, the attending come in, introduces himself and says that Milo's arm is, indeed, broken. Not a bad break, but they will be putting a soft plaster splint on it and we'll need to follow up with an orthopedic surgeon Thursday or Friday. The on-call surgeon is a "hand guy" but doesn't have his schedule in front of him, but says he'll get us in tomorrow.
Milo does a great job as they put the splint on and wrap his arm and get him in a sling. As in no complaining -- totally curious, but no fussing. The nurses and techs all wave at him as we check out, wishing him well.
He falls asleep in the car, so Scott takes him up to bed and I take the sitter home. When I go to pay her, I reach into my purse and cannot find my wallet. I check my trunk and skate bag quickly, hyperventilating... She tells me that she's fine with me catching up to her later and that she feels badly that he was hurt -- totally not her fault, though.
After getting stuck in an endless voice mail, I finally get a hold of mall security and they DO have my wallet, thank goodness...
Long, sleepless night. Milo is very uncomfortable, mostly because he was instructed not to take the sling off, so he can't find a good way to lay in his bed. I "slept" what was left of the night next to his bed.
Morning comes and I shower and get ready to take Violet to her 2 year well-child check. While I'm getting ready, Scott gets an appointment at the orthopedic guy for Milo. We time it so that I should have just enough time to get Violet into Cedar Rapids for her check-up, get her back to the sitter's, and pick up Scott and Milo to go to the ortho. All while driving as fast as I can, knowing that my license is in Coralville with my wallet.
Naturally, the ped is uncharacteristically behind schedule, but the nurse proceeds quickly with Violet once I explain the situation. Violet stepped on the scale and stood at the height thingy all by herself, following only the nurse's instructions. Totally impressed the nurse that a 2-year-old was so responsive. But, well... she's Violet, KWIM? The child is practically perfect, LOL! Anyway -- she's 33 inches tall and 28lbs 8oz. 48th percentile of height, 46th of weight.
Ped comes into the room, I explain what's up with Milo, he is darn reassuring that the break is common, easily treated, and something from which he'll recover fully. Then he examines Miss Perfect, pronounces her Miss Perfect, and is stunned when I tell him she's been dressing herself since 16 months, amazed that she can stand on one foot to put her pants on, and was impressed by a gratuitous display of manners when she asked me for something with a "pweese" and "daysh-you." Clean bill of health, Hep A was the only vaccine.
Drive carefully to the sitters, apologize that I don't have time to tell the whole story, but promise that I will when I pick Violet up this afternoon. I do tell her that Milo is OK, but tired and ouchie.
Get home, hop into Scott's car. Drive back to Cedar Rapids, check into the dr's office 10 minutes late -- which is fine as the Dr. is 45 minutes off schedule. We're totally not bothered by that and park Milo in front of a TV with Scooby Doo showing. Everyone in the waiting room is asking him what happened and wishing him well.
We're called back, answer questions regarding his medical history -- very short, BTW. Not much to report when you're a healthy 4-year-old. Nurse knows Scott's mom. She cuts his splint off and the doc is in, checks the films, says they're pretty good, but he wants "a perfect lateral" so we trundle down the hall for one more Xray. Milo sits easily on the tech's lap, follows directions perfectly, and they get "the perfect lateral."
Doc sees new film, seems very happy -- says that the break is only mis-aligned by 12 degrees and that they generally do not recommend setting pediatric breaks until they hit 31 degrees. He said, "If this were my child, I wouldn't risk the anesthesia for 12 degrees. It's up to you, but that little amount will not impact range of motion or anything in his future." Scott and I agree that seems unnecessary, so we proceed to the cast room.
Milo selects green -- lime green, alien green, neon green. You won't miss him in a crowded room! The nurses start putting the cast on, Milo and Scott are doing the Find It from the Highlights magazine.
As they proceed, the nurses comment, "You've got one really secure child. He's amazing -- we see many adults with half the composure he has. You are doing a great job as parents -- he's just lovely!"
Through the ER visit and the doc's visit, Milo hasn't complained once. He's followed every direction he's been given and answered the questions as articulately as any 4-year-old could. He charmed the pants off of everyone he met, they all smiled and wished him well and waved at him as we left. I am so proud of him!
A broken bone was the one first-aid emergency I'd never encountered until last night, and it was the one that had me most afraid. I get woozy when I hear how people break bones, so knowing that I kept my composure, made the best decisions I could about Milo's health, and kept him calm and willing to participate in the exams feels like clearing a big hurdle for me. Scott was great at keeping him occupied and entertained while I did all of the paperwork and stuff -- days like yesterday and today make me so very aware of why I love him so much -- he's so darn good with our babies, so compassionate and kind. I just love him!
Oh, I did get back down to the mall and retrieved my wallet. I'm so glad that it was the only thing I lost!