One I like to call a little thing called "post traumatic stress disorder". It has just been too overwhelming to think about.
The other is more along the lines of "sick and tired of medical professionals". Almost to the point that I can't talk about medical professionals with out one of my family members saying something along the lines of "just let it go" or "yes, but lets not get worked up about that again".
So, anyways, I haven't talked about this yet, but I thought it was time. I think I am over it.
April 14th, Zoe and Sid were playing football in the backyard- tossing it back and forth more or less. It was a miracle that they were getting along, to be honest, and I wasn't the least bit surprised when Zoe comes crashing through the backdoor, crying, cradling her left arm.
My daughter can be somewhat dramatic and I think has come in crying in the same fashion for things as little as "her hair hurts" or "Sid won't let me talk".... SO I didn't think too much of it, though the arm/hand cradling was new.
Anyways she came in, already in tears and I couldn't make out what she was saying, and Sid was right behind her apologizing, (which was proof to me right there that he didn't do anything on purpose, cause Sid is a guilty disappearer- if that is a word) and it was a whole ball of messy, sweaty, crying chaos.
So, Zoe and I went into her and Sid's bathroom (really my bathroom too, cause Aaron and I don't share a bathroom- but that is another post). I began running cold water over the now identified injured pinky, and am instantly surprised at the level of swelling and purpleness. It was one of those moments, were you think to yourself "So, THAT is what a broken finger looks like!!"
So, in a calmer than normal moment for me, I tell Aaron we are heading to the local Urgent Care place, and he briefly examines the finger and tries to do a little medical diagnosing while I grab my flip flops and purse.
Our local urgent care facility was pretty busy, and the very sweet receptionist informed me that we might wait about 45 minutes.
I was sweet right back and informed the receptionist that we may have a broken digit, the baby finger at that, and she sweetly informed me that the wait may be 45 minutes, even for that "issue".
So, Zoe and I settled in and turned our attention to the family style movie that was playing.
She was somewhat distracted by the tv, but was obviously still in pain, and I wanted to soothe and comfort her anyway I could, I stroked her hair, rubbed her back, snuggled her in, kissed her cheeks, told her I loved her, and might have tried to gather her up in my lap. And that was all in the first 3 minutes of being there.
I stopped when she leaned far away from me and gave me that look, that more resembled a mortified teenager, than my baby girl with her purple hand in an ice pack and kitchen towel. So, I stayed in my seat and she in hers till we were called back.
They asked a series of questions, mostly the same ones about how it happened over and over again, I assumed to make sure the "football" story held water and they didn't need to call CPS on me. Then the Dr came in, and I can describe him only as sleepy.
Like could barely keep his eyes open sleepy.
He suggested x-rays and after 6 x-rays (3 of each hand- which to me screams "I better get an x-ray of an uninjured hand, cause I don't have any idea WHAT I am looking for") he comes back in, rubbing his sleepy eyes and says "I think it is jammed."
Insert pregnant mama lion here.
"Really, cause it looks BROKEN to me!!" I was annoyed, I am not gonna lie.
He seemed a smidge startled by my tone, but still I think he actually yawned while he said "We will splint it today, and send it off in the morning to be read by a radiologist. Then we will call you once we know."
So, we returned home in a splint, just after 10 pm and Zoe was pretty hyped up having her first ever X-rays and splint. I was worked up, Aaron could tell.
To be honest I don't recall how we got her to sleep that night- I may have blocked that out.
I spent the following day home from work with her, cause it was still in pain and we diligently did R.I.C.E. (rest, ice, compression and elevate). My mom found this information on the internet for all sports related injuries.
I called several times and spoke with another sweet receptionist who told me they had not heard anything from the radiologist yet, but to stay calm and someone would call me.
Fast forward to Friday (the same Friday we headed to Tulsa) and I call AGAIN to the urgent care and speak with sweet receptionist number 3, who informs me they JUST got the results and it is indeed fractured and the radiologist suggests we see an orthopedics.
So I call Zoe's pediatrician who schedules and appointment for us on Monday and refers us to an orthopedics whom we schedule in for Tuesday.
We arrive at the orthopedics 2 hours early (pregnancy and thinking don't often go hand in hand) so we leave and go walk around Target for like an hour and then go eat McDonalds were Zoe discovered CinnaMelts or something equally sugary and gooey.
When we got back to the Dr, we were quickly taken back, and they took more x-rays.
The doctor came back in and said " we are going to need to cast this".
"Oh!" Was my response "A pinky cast?" I thought that was odd. And a little extreme.
"No, an arm cast"....."A full arm cast"
Mine and Zoe's jaws dropped at the same time. The doctor went on to explain that children with hand injuries tend to still play rough, thus knocking the arms and hands around and unless we bind and protect this finger, it could cause further problems in the future.
So, Zoe excitedly picked out a very pretty shade of blue, and they casted her up while I sat there still kind of confused as to why we needed a cast all the way up to the elbow for a fractured pinky.
Zoe stayed excited for about 5 minutes, and the itching started and hot spots and general annoyance and discomfort and sweat. And I was left wishing we would've gotten a second opinion on the whole cast thing.
I put her to sleep that night, rubbing her back till she fell asleep, cause she was so uncomfortable.
After 24 hours of complaining about not being able to wiggle her fingers and general tightness, I called the orthopedics office back and they reassured me that the first 24 hours is often like that, and that it should "loosen on its own" which it has.
Zoe only has 2 weeks left of the cast, and she actually hasn't minded too much. And I am relishing in the extra help she needs from me with showers and getting dressed.
Before we know it- those "3 weeks" that Zoe had a cast will be a memory.
A memory of a time she still needed her mama :)
But we better not encounter any more yawning Dr's in the future. I don't know if I can take it!
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