There’s a first time for everything

Yesterday Dave and I went to one of those high pressure sales pitches.  It’s how we like to spend our Thursday nights.  When you have five kids you’ll do anything for a date night.  We are particularly suited to do these things because 1) Dave is not motivated by guilt 2)He doesn’t cave under high pressure propaganda tactics and 3)I’m cheap.

We very much enjoyed ourselves, mostly because we find ourselves entertaining and we like free stuff!  On the way home we received a text from Mckayla who was home babysitting her brothers:

Her:  Are you guys ever coming home?

Me:  Soon.  Why?  I thought you were all going to bed at 8:30.

Her:  Jake fell off the pool table at 8 and he’s been crying ever since.  (It was 9:40)

Me: What?  You should have called.
Her:  I didn’t want to ruin your evening.  I  was waiting for him to stop crying.  Don’t worry, I did the break test.  He can wiggle his fingers, but he won’t let me touch his arm.

When we made it home Jake was sitting on the couch whimpering holding his arm.

Dave:  How did this happen?

Jake:  Nate wanted me to test the safety of a stunt.   I got onto the bar stool, stood up and jumped onto a big pillow.

Dave:  That sounds dangerous.

Jake:  It was.  When I jumped my arm made a noise.  And now it hurts.

Dave examined his arm and determined we needed to head to the E.R.  McKayla started to cry.  She felt absolutely terrible.

On the way to the ER I used my favorite parenting technique:  distraction.

Me:  Do you want to call Grandma?  (Grandma is always my default when someone gets hurt.  She is so much better at the sympathy than I am)

Jake:  No, it hurts too bad!

Me:  Maybe after this we could stop at McDonalds and get an ice cream. (distraction followed by bribery.  Best parent ever!)

Jake:  I don’t want ice cream.  My tummy doesn’t feel well.

Me:  I’m sure it doesn’t feel well because your arm hurts so much.

Me:  Do you know if you broke your arm, you’ll be the first of my kids to break something?

Jake:  It’s not broken!

Me:  I’ve never broken anything.

Dave:  I haven’t broken anything either.

Me:  You’ll be the FIRST in our family to break something!  How cool is that!

Jake:  ITS NOT BROKEN!!!!

When we got to the hospital we checked Jake in. He was the only patient.  What luck!

A man named “Big Joe”, seriously, that was the name on his name tag, took us back to a room.  (He was a really big guy) They brought Jake an icepack and situated him in the bed.  The nurse started asking us questions.

Her: What’s your name?

Jake:  Jacob

Dave:  Tell her your middle name.

Jake:  Adventure

Her:  How did this happen? Was it on an adventure?

Jake:  I jumped.  Without a parachute.  It didn’t end well.

The doctor came in and looked at his arm and ordered an x-ray, which they brought right into the room.  Only one of us could stay with him.  Dave wanted the extra radiation exposure, so I waited in the hall.  It’s  a good thing I did too, because there was lots of crying involved.  I’m not sure if I could have been the one holding his arm very still while he cried in pain during the long process of taking a picture of his bones.

While Dave was torturing Jake, I posted this picture on Facebook and captioned it: “His adventures have finally caught up with him.  At the E.R”

When I was allowed back in the room, he just about broke my heart with his tear stained face.  I tried my distraction technique again.
I showed him the picture I posted on facebook and told him all of the comments every one had posted in such a short time.  He was very excited about all of the love.

The doctor brought in his xray pictures and determined that it probably wasn’t broken, and if it was it was a very, very, small fracture but decided to cast the arm anyways in case, and await the reading from the radiologist.

Jake:  But it’s NOT BROKEN!

Her:  We’re just going to put a split on it to make it feel better faster.

Pacified, Jake asked if he could keep the xray picture.  She willingly obliged.  He then asked her to autograph it for him.  She was tickled pink.

The caster man came in and offered Jake four different ace bandage colors.  He chose red.  When the man walked out, Jake whispered to Dave.

“It’ll be like Ironman’s arm!”

The transformation into the man of steel wasn’t a very lengthy process, but it wasn’t the most comfortable process either.

Trying the distraction route again:

Me:  OOOO Auntie Red just texted me.  She said ‘Hey, I just saw the pic of the ER…What happened? Is he ok? are you still there?”

Jake:  Text her back ‘yes I am still here.  What are you doing?’

The radiologist spoke mostly in vague broad terms rather than specifics.  It may or may not have a fracture.  It may or may not be bent.  We should follow up with our regular pediatrician next week.  And that was it.  We were discharged.  Jake tucked his xray pictures into his sling (aka secret spy pocket) and we went home.

He had a hard time falling asleep, and somewhere in the middle of the night ended up in my bed.
This morning:

Jake:  It’s going to be a busy day today.  First we need to check facebook and see what everyone said about me.  Then I need to get ready for my phone call with Auntie Red.  After that maybe we could text some people.

I think I’ve created a monster!

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