Since I just posted about how much we love our new swing set and how gracious my dear friend Kelly was to hook us up with an amazing freebie, I feel compelled to share another development/experience of our 2007 spring/summer... On a fateful day in April the boys and I were visiting Kelly and her sweet children at their home. Kelly and I had been working on cleaning out her back flower bed and preparing a plot for their family's first vegetable garden. The kids would help us whenever they could, but mostly they enjoyed playing together in the backyard and on the swing set. Through a childlike series of events, Owen (quite the monkey/daredevil) ended up falling off of the swing set from a height of about 3 ft.
I had my back turned, but heard the loud "THUD" of Owen's little body meeting the ground. Instantly he was crying and I was scooping him up in my arms asking him "are you okay?", "what happened?". He was much too upset to give any answers, but it was lunch time and he was getting tired, so I just assumed if we solved those two issues he would be much less emotional about his recent lesson on the
law of gravity.
We immediately shut down "operation garden" and took the children in for some lunch. Owen would not sit in his own chair or feed himself at the lunch table which is very unusual for this tough little "do it yourself-er". By mid lunch he was complaining of pain in his right arm, so Kelly and I were quick to examine for any swelling, dislocation, scratches, etc. We found nothing. I decided we would wait until after nap time to asses whether or not he was truly hurt or if maybe the pain and trauma of the fall was still too fresh on his mind to allow him to think of anything else. I gave him some Tylenol when we got home after lunch. "Surely", I thought, "he's just bruised it and will wake up from his nap feeling rested and healed".
No such luck! When Owen awoke from his afternoon nap he called for me to help him get out of bed (this is highly unusual, he usually just gets out of bed and comes out of his room on his own). He couldn't figure out how to sit up and scoot himself with out using his right arm, at this time he was definitely protecting/favoring it. So, I looked it over again and it had developed just a slight amount of swelling around the right elbow, though you had to look very closely to recognize any difference from the left elbow. That was enough evidence for me to call Zach and inform him that we needed to make a trip to the
emergency room.
Owen was stoic during his E.R. visit. He was extremely brave and mature as the doctors and nurses poked and prodded, trying to find what could be wrong with Owen which would cause so much pain. They took x-rays and informed us that it was not broken. They tried treating him for "nursemaids elbow" which involves twisting the elbow forcefully in both directions to try to "pop it back into place", during this procedure Owen (who had not yelled or cried out up to this point) looked at the doctor through the tears running down his face and timidly said "that hurts me, doctor". And yes, this mommy had to step out of the room for a "not-so-strong" moment and shed a few tears before returning with a smile to reassure her son that the doctors would (at some point) help him feel better.
Several hours passed and they finally wrapped Owen's arm in a splint and discharged him with an "Effusion". I will share the meaning of the word effusion with all of you in hopes that you will not waste hundreds of dollars on an E.R. visit in search of broadening your vocabulary. Effusion means...(brace yourselves),
"SWELLING"!
Anyway, we followed up with an orthopedic surgeon who (the moment he saw the x-rays, yes, the same x-rays they took in the E.R.) recognized that Owen's elbow was fractured! Hmmm...
Well, the result was sweet Owen wearing a "half-cast" for about 8 weeks. He went for new x-rays before every "doctor" visit (see picture @ right). He was such a great sport about it and in fact his puppy "Sydney" had a
"band-aid" on her arm too until the "doctor" took both Owen and Sydney's "band-aids" off. Upon the removal of Owen's cast he exclaimed, "two arms!", "thank you God for two arms!".
Owen is doing well now and hopefully it will be awhile before we make our next trip to the E.R.!
As a note: If any of you or your children are ever referred to Dr. Henry Hendrix, I would advise you to ask for someone else. We did not have a very good experience. Actually, we've never met him. I don't even know what he looks like. He had his P.A. see us every visit which consisted of waiting a minimum of 2 1/2 hours each visit (which gets a little ridiculous when you are sitting there with a 2 yr. old, just to be told "everything looks good, we'll see you in a week"). His office staff gave me the run around and brush off with false answers to my questions for a week before they finally agreed to schedule Owen's first appointment.
Just F.Y.I.
Welcome Isaac!
Welcome Isaac!
