Myself: But he fell off a bike. It seems odd that he is still crying nearly an hour after he fell.
Me: Too much soccer. He's tired.
Later on...
Myself: He can move his arm but he's in obvious pain, despite the Ibuprofen and ice pack he had earlier. Look at those eyes; what do they remind you of? Don't you remember that look?
Me: Oh, I remember it, all right.
Myself: Then I would steer this van in the direction of the closest ER.
Me: Yeah, and I'll be kicking myself if it turns out to be a $50 visit for them to tell me I'm over reacting and that boys will be boys and he just bruised his arm. Not to mention, I am tired and haven't been home all day and it's Saturday night so I'm sure the ER is having a busy night already.
Myself: So what. Have some compassion, for goodness sake. The poor kid is cradling his arm and all you can think about is that you'll be out $50. Suck it up and go make sure it's not broken.
Me: It had better be broken if I'm going to pay a $50 copay for a diagnosis!
Myself: If it isn't, you won't be the first over-protective parent taking her kid into the ER only to leave hours later with nothing more than a pat on the back, but thanks for your business.
Later, later on...
Me: Well. Who knew that very little swelling and mobility can occur even in a broken arm?
Myself: Aren't you glad your maternal instict told you to bring him here for proper treatment and a firm diagnosis?
Me: I'm just glad I had a justified reason to pay $50. Even better, we were in and out of there in less than 2 hours.
At the ER, ready to be discharged with a tempary splint.
It's difficult to see the break, but you can kind of see the bump before his wrist.
Step 2 of getting a cast: the arm sock.
Hot pink is all the rage. Ready for autographs!
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