This morning started out like every other weekday morning. The early morning wakeup, snuggles in bed, the alarm going off and telling Iz to "go all the way through" (she goes through the kitchen into the living room so I can secure the baby gate behind her), waking up the boys, setting out clothes so everyone can get dressed. We have it pretty much down so we can do what we need to do and get out the door to get S to school (or day camp at the school).
And then Iz decides that Mom going into the bathroom is a fine time to practice her Daredevilry and she jumps off the sofa. And that cry fills the air that tells you this is no ordinary bump or bruise. I knew immediately she broke it by the way she cried, the way she held it, the way she moved it and didn't move it. And I chided myself for thinking that way because surely, she just sprained it a little and the ER staff would give me The Look they reserve for overprotective parents bringing in their kid for normal kid stuff. But take her in I would because that little nagging voice said she needed an X-ray, just to be sure.
I call Mr. Piper home from his on-the-way-home-from-work errands to drive S to school so I can take the Littles up the Children's Hospital. When we get there, the general consensus from nurses and residents checking her in is that she probably just bruised it a little but it doesn't appear broken--she tells you OW when you move her elbow and slaps your hands away but if it was broken, she would be reacting more. Perhaps I should have told them this was the girl who attempted to remove her own chest tubes with her feet and that multiple doctors and nurse commented on never seeing a child so calm getting extubated and having her pacer wires and chest tubes taken out. Either she has a very high pain tolerance or she has the world's best poker face.
She gets changed into a little gown and for a moment, it makes me both sad and proud. I remember how the itty bitty yellow gowns were so huge on her before her surgery and now she had graduated to the "big kid" blue gowns they give to Sterling! It was still a little big on her but the yellow would have been far too small. She wasted no time exploring the room and checking everything out. The arm you see hanging straight down is the hurt one--she didn't move it if she didn't have to and squawked at any medical personnel who made her move it. If I didn't hold her good hand, she smacked people :p The stroller there wasn't for her--my Busy Little B was corralled in it since he decided to leave his shoes at home and I didn't realize the Mister didn't bring them out to the car with B after B used the potty (when, oh when, will he outgrow the phase where he cannot wear his socks and shoes and go potty on his own? If I am right there to stop him from taking them off, he will leave them on but let him go alone and he comes back barefoot.....).
The Dr asked Iz to tell her and show her where her ouchies were but she refused to answer. As soon as the Dr left, however, Iz came over to tell me all about it. And to demand some "snaps" (she and Bryce have taken to calling getting their photo taken "snaps"):
|holding out her injured elbow and demanding a "snap" of it|
|telling me she has an ouchie|
|Mad that I asked if she had any other ouchies and was no longer paying attention to her elbow|
|Leaning on the wall telling me her ouchie is an owie|
B and I got to be in the computer room and watch her x-rays come up on the screen--he thought that was super cool. When I saw them, I knew she has broken the bone near the elbow but again I chided myself for thinking that way because I don't know how to read x-rays :p Surely that line there isn't an actual break. Yes, yes it was. The position of the break was borderline for surgery--a little further over and she would have been put on the day's schedule to have pins placed. The orthopedic team had to have a little conference and decided that they will try a splint first and see if they can avoid surgery so she got her little "cast" and we follow up both at her regularly scheduled appointment for the toe-walking on Thursday and then her official follow-up next week.
|showing me her "cast"|
Aside from the occasional "OW" when she moves it wrong or bumps into something, the cast is barely slowing her down. I have caught her climbing several times, she has tripped over her own feet and fallen a few times, she has figured out how to work all her favorite toys one-handed, and she insisted on feeding herself (with a little help from mom stabbing stuff with her fork for her). Bedtime, though, was a little rough since she had trouble getting comfortable :( She ended up snuggled up in my bed and has been sleeping sounding for an hour now. I should head to bed myself because we have cardiology in the morning!
|finally comfortable enough to sleep|
My pre-cardio-appointment jitters are through the roof tonight--they weren't so terribly bad until the ER doc told me she was hearing "extra heart sounds" when she examined Iz. Iz had NO murmurs at her cardio appointment last year so I can't help but worry the murmur the ER doc heard is related to Iz's pulmonary artery stenosis. What if it is worse? What if she needs a cath now and ballooning? What if a cath isn't enough and she needs full-on OHS again? What if Dr W had to completely replace the artery with a donor one? What if what if what if what if. Chances are it is nothing, perhaps not even there. Maybe the doctor heard what she thought she should hear. *sigh* Sometimes I think I am just a crazy person.