Dudes, it has been a while. And it has been very adventurous… at least for this past week.
You see, we’ve been very busy, with the horseback riding, and Kitten being in Awana and just general business. Well, with the Awana stuff, there’s a cub-car race (pinebox derby?) coming up, and we decided that Kitten would participate. So, in effort to get her car made, we were to go out visit my dad (and all his fancy tools) on Wednesday morning. The weather has been unseasonable warm, and it was raining in the morning, but I thought nothing of it. After all, we get all kinds of weather here, and we try not to let weather stop us from doing things – else we’d be trapped at home for 355 days out of the year. So! I got us all ready and headed out the door. I stepped of the deck and on to the concrete, and not two steps later, had fallen on my hip/elbow/back… on the arm that was carrying Birdie.
Ouch. Anyway, she started SCREAMING, and I was crying and Kitten was looking on in a “DUDE, WHAT JUST HAPPENED” kind of way. I took us all (very carefully, mind, because that “wet” sidewalk was actually a sheet of ice) back inside to call my dad to tell him that we would NOT be coming. If the sidewalk was to slick to walk on, how would the roads be (plus, I was not up to attempting to traverse the sidewalk a second time that day). I was also unsure as to what our various injuries were. I was quite worried that Birdie had hit her head on the sidewalk, or that I had squished her little innards while we all went down in a heap. After about 20 minutes, Birdie was still inconsolable. I didn’t think I’d be able to get to my car safely, and I was REALLY concerned that I had broken her collarbone or squished her insides with my arm and the thought of putting her in her carseat was pretty much unbearable, so we called 911. I felt very dumb for calling, like it wasn’t a “real” emergency (no one was bleeding or in danger of dying), but we needed medical attention and I wasn’t sure how else to get it (Birdie was STILL crying).
The fire truck got her first, and when I mean got here first, I mean that it got stuck down the street on the corner first (and kind of hit a parked car). You see, our street had not been plowed since we got nearly 2 feet of snow in the past 2-3 weeks or so. Yeah. It was bad. Anyway, the firemen (who were very good looking, by the way), got here first and had a heck of a time getting up to the house (frozen sidewalk). One of them even remarked “no wonder she fell” as they attempted to slide up to the house. They quickly checked Birdie over (felt her arms and legs, looked for bruises/bumps on her head, etc.), and asked me several times if I was ok. Then they went and put down a bunch of sand so the EMT’s could get to our house. You guys. The paramedics (also good looking!) didn’t even bring the ambulance down the street – they parked around the corner and walked in. Anyway, they also checked Birdie out and deemed her not in immediate danger. They said that they could take us in, or we could wait at home and look for signs of head trauma ourselves. They also said that if they took us to the ER, they would be putting us in the waiting room with everyone else, as there really wasn’t obvious injury. I chose to stay home. She was starting to settle and really didn’t relish the idea of waiting in an ER for however knows how long for a niggling idea in my brain that she must still be in pain. At this point, the fire truck got unstuck from the first corner they had to take, went past our house, and got stuck on the second corner. Poor firemen. Oh, and the EMT told me that this was the WORST street she had seen in the whole city. It’s a big city, and while I know she hasn’t seen every street, I’m sure she’s seen a lot! Anyway, the paramedics left, and we watched the fire truck struggle to get free… to no avail. In the end, they called a giant tow truck, that had to tow them out of the second AND A THIRD corner (that I could see). It was ridiculous. I did joke that maybe NOW we’d get a snow plow through here!
After lunch, my mom came over to visit, and to make sure that we were all ok. For some reason, when you say “ambulance” "fell with the baby on the concrete” and “won’t stop screaming”, mom’s tend to freak out. I don’t know what that’s about. So she came by to sit with Birdie so I could do some things, like breathe. And maybe shower, but I’m not all together sure that I did that. While my mom was here, we decided that every time you touch/pull on/move Birdie’s right leg, she’d cry. And if you changed her diaper, she’d full on SCREAM and shake. So I knew that niggling little feeling that she wasn’t quite right was true, and made arrangements for Kitten to play at a friend’s so I could take Birdie in the the ER. Mom left for home (without getting stuck – yay!), and I got Rob to meet me at the hospital.
I had a really hard time sitting around in the waiting room. People had been there FOREVER, and some people were REALLY sick, and I was filled with self doubt. We were fairly fortunate that after an hour or so, we were able to see the pediatrician (who, for the record, was also very good looking). He was all “yeah, she’s tender in there, lets go for some X-rays”. They shuffled us off to a different waiting room (which Rob professed his undying love for, and his willingness to wait for HOURS in this very quiet, very empty waiting room), and then off to the x-ray room. Birdie did so well for her X-rays, until they pulled her leg straight, and then it was all tears and shaking again. After that, it was back to the busy, disease-filled waiting room until the pediatrician had time to look at the file. Surprisingly not long long after we sat down, he called us over again. He was all “ok, lets look at the films, and then I’ll have you set up in a room” and I was all “a room! NO!!! That’s horrible” and he was all “It’s not the end of the world” and by that time, we were at the viewing station thinger. Anyway, turns out that Birdie broke her leg. YOU GUYS, I BROKE THE BABY. Le sigh. She got a buckle fracture (which is a greenstick fracture) in her femur, just above the knee. So they casted her, a giant pink (yay!) cast, and then sent us home. I was SO glad that I listened to my mommy intuition and ignored the doubt I had. I would have felt even more awful had I not taken her in.
For the rest of the evening, we just stayed home and kind of was in shock about the whole thing. I joked around that if anyone asked if we needed anything, I’d tell them just to bring those tiny champagne bottles over. Ha ha. Then I decided I’d rather eat my way through this, vs. drink.
Wednesday night Birdie slept like an angel. We kept up on the Advil, and she had a great big long sleep. I was really grateful. It wasn’t super amazing, like 10 hours or anything, but she wasn’t up every 2 hours like I thought she’d be.
On Thursday, the graters came, and it took all of my will power not to stand on my front porch and yell “You’re welcome, neighbourhood!!!” at the top of my lungs. Ha. Anyway, the day went by with very little in the way of anything interesting or amazing, other than Birdie being crazy and trying to crawl around and STAND ON HER BROKEN LEG!!! Egads. So Thursday night, I put her to bed as per usual and things were normal. I went to bed (at the normal time), and she woke up (at the normal time) to nurse, only HER CAST WAS NOT ON HER LEG!!! The little squiggle worm had kicked off/pulled her leg out of her cast! Gah. So I got to make a 2 am visit to the ER (which? not as busy as it was at 3 pm the previous day). And even better, the same ortho-tech was on duty, so she was already familiar with us, and knew that Birdie loved to a) play with the crinkly bags and b) rip up the rolls of cotton batting. She even let me cut through the “restricted” portion of the ER to get in to the hospital proper to get back to my car (vs. going outside and around the building at 3 am due to renovations). So now she has another hot pink cast on which a better bend in the knee so she can’t get it off herself.
The weekend has gone quickly, and Birdie has been pretty OK with everything. Granted, we’re not strangers to casts, but it has been a little different than the serial casts in that she will cry if you bump her leg wrong or if she goes too long between Advil does. We have our Orthopedic specialist appt in the AM on Monday, so hopefully that goes well, and she won’t have to have her cast on for long.
THE OTHER STUFF
Hanna does a Scrapbook Sunday thing, where every Sunday, she shows you a page she worked on out of her scrapbook. Now that I’ve joined in on this digital scrapbooking thing, I thought I would copy her very good idea and I will leave you with a page out of my scrapbook (part 2… seeing as how the first 65 pages were lost due to a corrupted hard drive… ladies and gentlemen, please backup your computers).