Pretty in Pink

It's been a rough couple of weeks for The Girl. As you can see from the picture, she had a thumb-related mishap at school -- a minor fracture that will require a bandage for about two weeks. But that wasn't even her first trip to the emergency room this week.

A few days before, we'd gone to the hospital after I tried to pick her up by the arms and gave her the ol' Nursemaid's Elbow. Luckily that one was over the moment they popped that elbow back into place and gave the kid a popsicle.

The thumb break is proving to be a lot more difficult. The second night she had it on, she sobbed for two hours insisting that she was done and wanted it off NOW. That was a rough night because for all her communication skills, it's really hard to explain to a 2-year-old that the big uncomfortable thing on her arm is an unpleasant necessity for the proper healing of her fractured bone.

But the rest of the time, we've been reminded what a resilient kid she is. She has tied her shoes, climbed the slides, played with friends, carried her toys and eaten her food without complaint. Well, one complaint: she really didn't like the pink.

Not all firsts are fun

Standing in the emergency room with a screaming child in your hands waiting for a nurse, it hits you how much the job sucks sometimes. Especially when you're the reason why she's at the hospital to begin with.

The three of us went to a student concert tonight at Lisa's school. Typically, Sophie grew restless after less than a half hour, so we left early and were walking to the car. I'm holding her hand when she decides she doesn't want to carry her own weight like a sucker anymore, and she buckles her legs so I'm stuck dragging her (again, typically). I give her arm a quick tug to get her back on her feet, and that's when the crying starts. Then the crying escalates to fell-fledged wailing, that's when we decide that since we have no clue what happened, it's time for our first hospital visit with the girl.

Standing in the waiting room packed with sick kids, Sophie was the only one making noise, which made me wonder: is she the worst off of the group or the best since she at least has energy to pitch a fit? I decided it had to be the latter, even though that didn't make much sense.

Thirty long loud minutes passed before we got in to see a triage nurse, and when we did the verdict was exactly what the admitting nurse suspected: Nursemaid's elbow. This might sound like one of Grandpa Simpson's quack diagnoses, but it's an incredibly common situation where the elbow joint becomes dislocated by pulling upward and twisting. Luckily, it's cured with a single maneuver that looks like it could be grounds for child abuse charges.

Afterward, as we sat waiting for our insurance info to process, Sophie sucked happily on an electrolyte-enhanced frozen popsicle and I thought about how easy it was to unwittingly bring harm to this little person. A few weeks ago, Mom had warned me about rough play that put a lot of pressure on the girl's arms, and now I see the potential dangers. For her, a joint can pop out of place; for us, our hearts can break in two.