You guys.
When I was in pharmacy school, my favorite course was anatomy lab and we dissected human cadavers. I was all about it. When it came time for rotations, I chose a surgical one. I was in the OR for knee replacements, hernia repairs and even off-pump bypass surgeries. It was awesome. I think the human body is downright amazing. When it comes to physiological insult and injury, I can do needles, blood and guts, emergency situations, etc. In fact, I like that stuff.
But I have a hard time when body parts – usually limbs – are bent, pulled, strained, or dislocated into grotesque positions. When watching football on TV {yes, I like football}, I cringe when they replay injury plays in slow motion. It gets me right behind the knees. Tingling. And my stomach drops.
So when Everett fell off the monkey bars Saturday night just as we were about to leave the park to go home and came running crying to me with his left arm dangling and bent at the forearm, I was mortified. Luckily, my mama bear and healthcare instincts kicked in and I was able to get him to a local children’s hospital quickly but the vision of Everett running at me with his discombobulated arm haunts me. Sends shivers down my spine.
Everett broke his ulna and radius between his wrist and elbow. His fall was forceful enough to shift his broken bones out of alignment {hence, the bent forearm} so he was “put under” for reduction {i.e. his bones were manually manipulated back into proper alignment} and casting. Sitting next to him after the procedure before he woke up, I just stared and stared at him. He was so quiet. I was thankful that he was comfortable and wasn’t in pain but I couldn’t help feeling emotional. By nature, Everett is loud and rowdy and bouncing off the walls. On a daily basis, I wish he were more sublime and sometimes resort to yelling my wish at him.
But sitting there looking at him – in a sling, in a full arm cast, in a hospital bed – I couldn’t help feeling guilty for ever wishing him quiet or yelling at him. In that moment, I wanted him loud and rowdy and bouncing off the walls. When he came to, I told him I was sorry he fell, sorry he broke his arm, sorry I didn’t see him fall. I had been tending to Mabrey in the stroller when Layne came running to tell HH and me that Everett had fallen. Everett was only a few steps behind. I didn’t see him fall. We had just given the boys the two-minute warning. I was looking forward to going home, putting the kids to bed, pouring a glass of wine and spending a few rare moments alone with HH after he had been gone on business all week. Oh, the mommy guilt.
Everett’s reply to my apologies? “It’s not your fault. I’m the one who fell off the monkey bars.” So simple in his mind.
Then my guilt turned to gratitude. I was grateful Everett’s injuries weren’t worse. Grateful that his break wasn’t more complicated. No pins or screws required. He’ll be in a cast for at least 5-6 weeks but the ortho doc predicts a full recovery. It got me thinking about parents with children who are far worse off than Everett. I mean, it’s just a couple of broken bones after all. A small bump in the road in the big scheme of things. I cannot imagine how parents of children with chronic diseases and serious health issues must feel. Or parents who have lost children. I can’t even go there. I was truly grateful to be staring at my son in a hospital bed with nothing more than his arm in a cast. Nothing like a few broken bones to put things into perspective. I think it was the longest I’ve gone recently without thinking of some house project I should be working on. The unpainted interior doors, the non-working front door, the peeling garage door, the cracked driveway – they didn’t even cross my mind in those three hours at the hospital.
And so the DIY projects we had scheduled for the weekend were put on hold.
We spent the rest of the weekend looking after Everett. Layne and Mabrey helped out. As much as I don’t enjoy seeing Everett in a cast, it is really nice to see our other children have concern for him and be genuinely nice to him. Especially after a summer of what felt like constant bickering. They really do love each other!
This isn’t Everett’s first go ’round with a cast. He suffered a hairline fracture to his tibia when he was just sixteen months old. Like I said, bouncing off the walls. He’s always been that way. But that injury wasn’t quite as severe or dramatic. There’s swelling, pain, sleeping problems this time around. Everett isn’t able to do his two favorite things – ride his bike or draw. Bike riding is prohibited per doctor’s orders. Everett is left-handed and broke his left arm. His fingers and thumb are free to use but look like little puffy sausages and make grasping a pencil nearly impossible right now. He tried drawing last night and got very upset saying his pictures looked like scribbles. That was enough to send my heart shattering into a hundred pieces.
So, yeah, his arm and my heart are broken. But kids are resilient and I have no doubt he’ll make adjustments and adapt to living with a cast. I bet I’ll be back to my “Everett be quiet!” ways in no time. Haha.
I know some of you have had similar experiences with your kids. Feel free to share them in the comments section. Also, I could use any ideas for keeping Everett occupied until he’s feeling better. TV and movies are only fun for so long. Thanks for hearing me out today. I know this isn’t literal house stuff but life glitches like this are what make our house feel like home, too. No paint required.
And to all of the parents out there dealing with more serious problems, my broken heart goes out to you.
image: Dana Miller for House*Tweaking
family life, kid-friendly