nursemaid's elbow

Last night was interesting. It was the first time we've taken one of our children to the Emergency Room. Come to think of it, we've never even taken our boys to the doctor for anything beyond a well-check (knock on wood). But this story has a happy ending so I'll go ahead and tell it.

It was a typical Tuesday evening in the Franklin home. Around 7pm Daddy was still at school (National Board reviews), Brigham had gone to bed for the evening, and Allen & I were cleaning up his toys as the first American Idol contestant of the night began belting his tune. Allen decided to challenge the singer by shouting out his best rendition of the ABC's. I was sitting on the floor filling a diaper-wipe container when he charged me (this happens about 37 times a day in our home, so no biggie). I didn't even brace myself for the mild impact which is why I was confused when he crumpled to the ground screaming. I thought he might have bitten his tongue or something because he honestly didn't run into me that hard. It took a moment of fruitless soothing for me to realize that he was cradling his left arm and it looked rather limp.

Now, Allen's not really a kid who plays up injuries. When he gets a booboo, like most toddlers, he wants a little love. But that's it. Brad often assesses his injuries by asking him to do funny motions with his limbs (like high & low fives, and flying like superman). He would have none of that from me. When I tried to get him to wiggle or squeeze his fingers he just started crying again--big fat "real" tears pouring down his face. I was sure his arm or wrist was broken.

Something like a mother-panic button went off in me. I was torn between melting down and sobbing with him or scooping him up and rushing off to the E.R. . Luckily I recognized my irrationality and did the right thing instead. I called my almost-doctor husband!--even though he was in reviews (which is a one-shot test prep that we had to pay for). We decided that I would call a friend from church to come over, Ben B., who is a D.C. student as well. He was there in 5 minutes. After gently assessing his arm (causing many more tears), Ben thought we should take him to the E.R.

I texted Brad and proceeded to get ready. Allen wouldn't move an inch from where he sat but apparently got a little bored. I thought it was rather funny when he asked, "Mommy, you please bring me a toy?" So I set a few books next to him and he turned the pages with his good hand--not moving the other arm at all. Sad, but cute.

Brad got there 15 minutes later and we headed off to the Emergency Room. Ben stayed with sleeping Brigham so Brad and I could both go (Thanks Ben!!!). Poor little Allen screamed and the tears would start afresh every time we had to move him. We took him to St. Johns (I could write a novel about how awesome their pediatric ER was!) and we were seen right away. The doctor immediately thought the problem was something called a nursemaid's elbow (dislocation of the elbow joint) but wanted to take x-rays to make sure it wasn't broken. He said if it was nursemaids elbow that it might be fixed by taking x-rays because one of the position they put his arm in "pops" it back in place. And guess what? That is exactly what happened! Amid Allen's wailing, the radiology tech twisted his arm and the joint back into place. A couple minutes later he waved his arm up above his head and said, "We can go home now." Amazing! We were so relieved! The unwelcome visions of my two-year old in a cast melted away.

While we were being discharged Allen soaked up the last 30 minutes in style. He got a purple popsicle, a juice box, stickers, rubber gloves to play with, and Lion King to watch. What fun it was to be in the hospital!

Allen is perfect today--like it never happened.

The doctor said that Nursmaid's Elbow usually occurs when someone has yanked their child's arm or when parents swing the child between them by the arms. Brad and I looked sheepishly at one another because Allen is usually escorted into grocery stores swinging between us. Ooops. We won't be doing that till he's older. He told us that after age 5 the ligaments are strengthened so this will not occur. I'm so grateful that this happened because of rowdy play and was not our fault. That would have made his cries unbearable.

Parenting really is on-the-job training and you learn something new every day!

Ever the blogger...I brought my camera along.

When we first arrived they gave him Motrin for the pain. In his good hand he held onto his airplane the whole night. It even made it into some of his x-ray images.

Love from mommy.

A daddy-escort to radiology...

The big-scary camera that wasn't so scary because just last week we read a library book about Curious George going to the hospital to get an x-ray (he swallowed a puzzle piece).

The nice lady who tortured his arm back into place, or as Allen later said, "make it aaahhlll better!"

Our little patient feeling great and laid back enjoying the perks.

We made it home by 9:30pm and in bed by 10pm. A happy ending.