Friday, April 25, 2014
A Call from the School Nurse
Yesterday, I got a call from the school, while I was out running errands. "Joni, this is the school nurse." Every mother, who's ever gotten this call, stops in her tracks and reviews a mental list of ailments and injuries....wondering which one the nurse is about to name. Stomach virus (oh, please don't let it be the stomach virus), fever, sore throat, rash...and I have the added worry of Carson's peanut allergy. I was bracing myself for the verdict when she caught me off guard with......."Carson may have broken his thumb in basketball practice."
I can handle throw up. I can handle blood. I can handle mucus. I cannot, however, handle bones that are pointing directions, in which they should not be pointing. I just can't. I don't know why. It's just something I don't deal with well. Just the thought of it makes me squeamish and, of course, Davis was working out of town.
I rushed to the school to pick him up as I knew that, since I was the only parental unit in the vicinity, I would have to put on my big girl pants and deal with it. Thankfully, when Blair broke her arm at 15, Davis was there to cover up the gnarly, disfigured limb with a jacket or there would've been two of us laid out the ER.
Anyway, Carson got in the car and I knew I had to look, so that I could evaluate the situation with my vast expanse of medical knowledge. "Don't get sick. Don't get sick", I convinced myself. I took a deep breath as he lifted the ice pack and the second I saw the thumb, I knew it was broken. "Ok, I've seen enough", I said as my head swooned. A mother's eye can detect if one of her son's phalanges is even slightly out of whack. I know the back of his hand like the back of mine.
So, that was a recap of my last 24 hours, as riveting as it was. I know this post has had you all on the edge of your seats, but it's all that I've been doing over the last day and since I don't make this stuff up......this is all I've got, people. We're the Millers and we're doing our part to keep the health care industry booming.
I can handle throw up. I can handle blood. I can handle mucus. I cannot, however, handle bones that are pointing directions, in which they should not be pointing. I just can't. I don't know why. It's just something I don't deal with well. Just the thought of it makes me squeamish and, of course, Davis was working out of town.
I rushed to the school to pick him up as I knew that, since I was the only parental unit in the vicinity, I would have to put on my big girl pants and deal with it. Thankfully, when Blair broke her arm at 15, Davis was there to cover up the gnarly, disfigured limb with a jacket or there would've been two of us laid out the ER.
Anyway, Carson got in the car and I knew I had to look, so that I could evaluate the situation with my vast expanse of medical knowledge. "Don't get sick. Don't get sick", I convinced myself. I took a deep breath as he lifted the ice pack and the second I saw the thumb, I knew it was broken. "Ok, I've seen enough", I said as my head swooned. A mother's eye can detect if one of her son's phalanges is even slightly out of whack. I know the back of his hand like the back of mine.
Of course, by this time of the day, there were no appointments available, but we were told to come and "be worked in", which is a nice way to say, "Come on down here and we'll get to you.....well, when we get to you." The waiting room was packed with sick children...all coughing and hacking and moaning. You could almost see the germs fly by you in the air.....like gnats....so breathing as infrequently as possible, we waited here.....
Then, we waited here......
Our pediatrician was very attentive and helpful and, sure enough, the x-ray machine verified my motherly suspicion. We were splinted and then, since you can't go to the orthopedic people without being referred to the orthopedic people, we were referred to the orthopedic people, who, in turn, said they could "work us in" first thing this morning. So then, we waited here.....
(It was here, where I saw the cutest, little older couple. She'd, from all appearances, just broken her leg and as they walked out through the waiting room...big boot, new crutches and all, the little man was following behind her and carrying her purse adorned with pink birds and blue flowers. So precious. He was carrying it like a boss, too. I hope that Davis will carry my pink bird purse with such enthusiasm when the time comes, but I digress.) Anyway, then we waited in here.......
and in surprisingly and most appreciated good time
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Sorry to hear about your son! A call from the school nurse always fills me with dread, too. I hope he's back on the baseball field soon!!
ReplyDeleteThanks!! He should get his cast off May 20.....meanwhile, there's not much he can do in the way of ball. :(
ReplyDelete