Broken wrist follow-up

So I’ve gotten back to my hometown area to pick up my youngest daughter and her new, arm-length accessory. It looks pretty good on her actually. I called her on the phone the other day and asked if her cousins had signed her cast yet and she didn’t quite understand the concept. My sister explained later, and my daughter said that she didn’t want them to sign it and wanted to keep it white. (She has a plaster cast for the next few days and will get her pink one then.) As soon as her siblings and I arrived she started having everyone sign her cast with markers. Very cute that she wanted us to get to sign it first.

The break is pretty obvious in the x-ray. I’m no radiologist, but I don’t believe bones are supposed to separate and lean non-linearly. The day after getting her case, my daughter was in no pain and had no swelling or any of the other things they tell you to be watching for. She’s been her happy-go-lucky self, playing endlessly outside with her cousins while we’re still visiting and dragging tree limbs five times her size over to the fire pit for her uncle to burn. If it weren’t for the plaster appendage, you’d never know anything happened. I’m very happy about that.

My daughter’s biggest point of happiness is that she interprets not getting the cast wet as not having to take baths. She’s due for a scrub-down, so some harsh reality is going to be rearing its ugly head very soon.

Unexpected first entry topic

So with all the prodding I’ve been toying with the whole blog idea and the possibilities of its anonymous exhibitionism and decided to give it a go. Of course to do so means needing a starter topic, which is the thing that keeps many people from starting writing in the first place. Again, enter my pointy-blog-sticked sister with a phone call only ninety minutes or so ago to inform me of some goings-on involving my youngest daughter who is spending a couple days visiting with her cousin.

“I’m really sorry. My youngest daughter and your youngest daughter were playing a round of ‘let’s jump off tall things that we ought not’ and I think her wrist is broken. Mom and I are taking her to the hospital.”

Hey hey…a blog topic if ever one was made.

My sister feels awful as though she were some neglectful ne’er-do-well. I say things just happen with kids sometimes. My son had a compound break from a trampoline accident a few years ago. Which I never fully saw because he snapped his arm back in place on his own before coming inside (GAH!). The fact that nothing like this has happened to any of my sister’s kids yet I just chalk up to beating the odds. Seriously, check her site (http://lookingforgeorge.spaces.live.com) and just look for the doll. And then keep an eye on the evening news. Or watch “Chucky” movies. Whatever works for you.

So now I sit and wait for a call from relatives two hours away to let me know that everything has gone fine with setting bones and putting on a cast. My daughter is a very sweet, mild-mannered but fun-loving girl and I hate to think of her being in pain and doped up on morphine. Not that I would want to think of other people in that predicament, save for possibly one or two, or maybe a half-dozen. Again, another set of stories for another time.

More than anything I wish I was right there to give her a hug and help carry her out and drive her home when it’s all over. None of which she’d remember later of course, due to being anesthetized from having her bones set. But it’s the being there that would count, as much for me as for her I suppose. But with other kids needing packed off to school in the morning I have to wait a couple more days to give her a hug.

And to see her cool cast. I hear she has chosen pink, which comes as absolutely no surprise.