Ryan left for the race on Thursday morning. It was a typical Thursday, nothing too out of the ordinary. I expected the rest of the day and evening to continue on as uneventful as it began. I was looking forward to a nice quiet evening at home.
It went something like this:
- Fed Casha dinner
- Got Casha in the tub
- Got Casha out of the tub
- Dressed Casha in her jammies
- Read Casha a few books
- Put Casha to bed
- Went downstairs
- Fed the dog
- Let the dog out
- Poured a glass of Shiraz
- Let the dog back in
- Went upstairs to check my email
This is where my plans for an uneventful evening were completely derailed!
You see, just as I sat down and took a sip of my Shiraz I heard a very loud THUD! from Casha's room. This was followed very quickly by a loud SCREAM! from Casha's room.
I knew immediately she had fallen from her crib. I expected that I would pick her up, calm her down, and get her back into her crib. That is not what happened.
As I entered Casha's room, I noticed she wasn't getting up. I thought, "well, she's crying so she didn't knock herself out." As I scooped Casha up off the floor she cried, "arm hurt, arm hurt!" I picked her arm up from where it dangled by her side and noticed that it was doing just that, dangling. In that instant, I recognized a borken arm.
I told Casha, "It's ok sweetie, we're going to go get your arm fixed." I grabbed my purse, took a quick look inside to be sure I had my wallet, threw an extra pull up in, grabbed my keys, and we were out the door.
Before I go any further, I want to add that I had been cleaning house that afternoon. I was wearing the same "lounge around the house pants" I had been sweating in all afternoon as well as the t shirt I'd been sweating in all afternoon. I had a weird, teeny, tiny pony tail in my hair, it's too short for a pony but I had been planning to stay home!
Back to the broken arm.
Our experience in the ER was pretty typical. Walk in, register, get an ice pack, sit for a little while, listen for the name SCOTT and determine if they're really calling us or if that was someone's first name. When they do call us, we go in, see the doctor, get some x rays, determine the arm is definitely broken, get a splint made, and pay the ridiculous ER co-pay.
There was some crying during the x rays, no big deal though. I thought for sure Casha would freak out about the splint and she did cry some. However, when she started to cry she turned and looked at me. I wrapped my arms around her chest and told her, "toughen up, no crying. You're a big girl." She looked right into my eyes and said, "ok Mommy" while fighting back the tears. I have never seen a two year old fight back tears like that. It was a proud moment when I realized just how tough that little girl is.
After the splint, we were out of there pretty quickly. It didn't take the financial department long to come in to collect our co-pay and once I took care of that, we were on our way home.
Thursday night, around midnight:
Friday, during the day:
The swelling was enough on Thursday night that the doctor chose not to cast Casha's arm and so we left with just the splint. (As you can see in the photos above.)
Yesterday (Tuesday), was our appointment with the pediatric orthopedic surgeon. He decided to go ahead with the cast yesterday, no problem. Ryan and I looked at one another with a look that said, "great!" On the road to recovery.
We chose the color of the casting material and the doctor and nurse began chatting with Casha about what they were going to be doing. The doctor asked Casha, "How'd you break your arm sweet heart?"
Casha looked him right in the face and said, "I nastics", "turn over, nastics." (translation: I was doing gymnastics while I should have been sleeping. I decided to flip over the side of my crib and see if I could stick the landing.)
I couldn't believe my ears! She just admitted that she hadn't fallen from her crib but she was flipping around on it like it was a pommel horse or something! I said to Casha, "Look at me. Did you fall down while climbing out of your crib or were you doing gymastics?" She looked me right in the eye and said, "nastics", in a very confident voice. I'm still a little shocked by this.
So, I thank you, Nastia Liukin! My daughter is never allowed to watch the olympics again and she is certainly not going to be watching X Games! :-D
The signatures on her cast are lovingly referred to as tattoos.