Boy. Y’all are lucky. Not one but two posts from me today.
I should have known better than to post yesterday’s blog. As logical as I am, I do have an inherent suspicion of crowing about how well things are going. Sure enough, I think I shot Stella’s summer camp in the foot. Well, arm.
As I pulled up to pick her up yesterday, her former nanny started texting me; she was already there to pick up her daughter, and apparently mine was freaking the F*^%$ out. Initially she thought it was a tantrum and was sitting with her to calm her down. As I was jogging up the stairs to get to her, I got another text about Stella complaining that her arm was really hurting. It turns out during the field trip to the bouncey castle place, Stella fell and landed badly. She cried on site and was given ice. The pain got worse through lunch and rest period, and by the time I got to her she was in major pain.
I feel the need to interject something here: my daughter is tough. I’ve seen her take shots to the head that would make a grown man moan and shake them off. Her pain tolerance must be enormous. So if she’s crying – big tears – hours later about an injury, she is hurt. And hurt bad.
I didn’t know what to do. I got her to the car and she couldn’t even lift her right arm to get in and buckle her seat belt. I called her pediatrician and they agreed to see her immediately. I don’t know why, because unbeknownst to me they didn’t have an X-ray there, yet were still happy to take a co-pay. Her doctor couldn’t rule out a break, so we were off to an orthopedist who agreed to see a 5 year old girl as an emergency walk-in at the end of the day. Another co-pay later, Stella was X-rayed and waiting to see the ortho. Long story short, they couldn’t tell by the X-rays if there was a break. The doctor thinks she may have a fracture along a growth plate, which makes it hard to detect without a CT scan (or at least in this case, since Stella couldn’t/wouldn’t move or bend her arm to allow better X-rays).
So we have a cast. A big-ass hot pink cast. It’s up to her shoulder. She can’t swim. She can’t get it wet. It’s Louisiana. It’s 900 degrees outside. This is going to be a long summer. And this is what I get for talking about how great stuff is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to rub my rabbit’s foot.