Famous last words: "The ER?! Not our kids"

When I began this blog, I thought I wouldn't really have anything to write about. Either that's true (and you're just humoring me by reading these entries), or my blog has given me a life. I didn't intend to add to the blog on a daily basis but this was begging for a write up.

The other night, we were sitting around the firepit with a bunch of friends and they were all talking about their trips to the ER with their children. I stupidly said, "In 10+ years, we've actually never had to take our boys to the ER." Ha!!! Well, we made our inaugural parental visit to the ER last night. And not with TT, the one we'd all predict. At about 8:30 last night, I was sitting at the computer learning the wonders of html and playing with my blog site when I saw it happen. CH was outside tossing a ball around with our neighbor kids. I could see them though my office window - they were having a great time.

The neighbor boy threw the ball up in the air and CH and the neighbor girl both reached for it. And she, all 60 or so pounds of her, came down full weight on his left arm/wrist/hand. At least she caught the ball...

Anyway, CH kept his cool and ventured quickly for the house, grabbing his arm. It didn't look good. He got in the house and lost it. Poor guy. He was hurting worse than I've ever seen him hurt. His arm was already swelling and turning a variety of colors, and he couldn't really move it.

Conveniently, the girl who landed on CH has a mom who is a pediatric nurse. I asked C to go get her and she came right over. There was lots of hmmming and hawing and questions and attempts at movement. We put ice on it. CH gave it about a 7 on the pain scale, even after about 20 or so minutes. It was time to adventure to the ER. It was about 9:20 pm at this point.

Now, where we live, we have 2 hospitals within a mile of each other (a bit strange, don't you think?). I paused at the turn to the first one and, with great mom wisdom, chose the second one because my friend used to work at the second one and because the 2nd one is bigger. Highly informed reasons, don't you think? Later, I remembered that the nurses at the first one are on strike, so I guess I made a good choice afterall.

We got to the hospital and were immediately seen by the intake nurse. I stayed calm (wow - seminary's been a good thing for me) and CH looked like a deer in the headlights who was in extreme pain. The doctor we saw was very enthusiastic and personable, but I think he kind of freaked CH out. He joked about possible amputation and about whether or not his fingers would make it. CH gave him a blank stare that basically said, "Dude, this is no time for jokes. I'm in pain. If you're serious, send another doctor in, ok?" Those of you who know CH have seen his blank stare before. That's the one he gave him.

CH got an x-ray then kicked back on the bed in pain. The ice kind of helped but he was still a 7 on the pain scale. Then the entire city seemed to explode with trauma. Suddenly, in addition to the beep of ER heart monitors, we could hear paramedics calling in about a 7 year old who wasn't breathing and the nurse in the hall was talking about stitches for the girl next door. It was obvious we were low on the triage list and for good reason. So, we waited....and waited....and waited (seems to be a theme lately...). Then someone assured us that the doctor would be in shortly. Then we waited some more.

Then the doctor who couldn't make it as a comedian came in with the x-ray. As far as he could tell, there were no breaks. The nurse (who was absolutely fantastic with CH) came in, grabbed the x-ray from the doctor and said, "No way...I thought for sure it was broken." Then she put the x-ray on the lighted wall thingy and looked at it herself. That kind of cracked me up and joker doctor didn't seem to mind. He actually went over and looked at it with her and they talked about how surprised they both were. "Yeah, he's in so much pain...." "and did you see how he was holding it when he came in?" "Usually these things are always broken arms...." CH and I exchanged glances. His big blue eyes seemed to say, "Hey, Mom, did they forget we're here?????"

Eventually, joker doctor and awesome nurse finished sharing their surprise and figured out that CH needed a splint deal for his arm. Diagnosis: sprained wrist. As soon as the nurse got the deal on his arm, it seemed to help. At this point, it was about 11:00pm.

On the drive home, CH sighed a sigh of relief. "You know, Mom, I was really worried it was broken," he told me.

"Yeah, if it was, you wouldn't have been able to swim the rest of the summer..." I mentioned. Somehow, we both realised that he couldn't play Gameboy now - even though it was just sprained. What a bummer. But then, lo and behold, I walked into the living room today - where CH has set up his own I'm-milking-this-for-all-its-worth hospital suite complete with TV, remote, AC, blankets, snacks, and a little brother who feels sorry for him - and he was playing Gameboy! Maybe he'll strike it big as the world's best one-handed Gameboy champ.