Wednesday, March 20, 2013

The Boy Who Cried "Ow."

Last year, on the second-to-last day of school, a boy injured himself, while running and then falling, on the playground.

His mother received a phone call from the school's health tech, informing the mother of her son's injury.

The boy cried and whined and winced from the pain.  Worrying that he'd broken his arm, the mother took her son straight away to the doctor.

The kind, old doctor-on-call ordered x-rays.  And they revealed----nothing.  The boy had simply sprained his wrist. 

Knowing the miracle of the placebo effect, the kind, old doctor-on-call hooked the child up with a fancy black splint and sling.  The boy proudly wore them on the last day of school.  And for a few days afterwards.  The mother was slightly annoyed at the attention the son was seeking and getting from his "injury."

Jump forward nine months.  (Add a move and a new baby in there).  Guess who was running and chasing a classmate, on a field trip, when they were supposed to be walking?  Another "injury."  Another call from a school health tech.  But, NOT another trip to the doctor; the mother had learned from the past.
Or so she thought.
The mother had her son wear the splint and sling from before.  He wore them--and never took them off.  After eleven days both the boys' parents insisted thast he stop using them and demanded that he attend church without them. 
The boy cried and whined and winced from the pain.  His wrist looked a little funny.  The parents realized that he might still be "injured."
The mother took him to the doctor the following day.
The kind, new doctor ordered x-rays.  And they revealed----a broken ulna AND radius (the two bones in the forearm) above the wrist--high enough to require a full arm cast.
(Don't be fooled by the above picture: having a cast is no fun.  Four weeks of no participating in gym class or just about anything fun at recess, having to bag up one's arm just to take a shower, having to have someone else tie your shoes, having to endure countless itches that one cannot scratch.... )
The boy is NOT liking all the attention.
Neither the mother nor the father have ever suffered from broken limbs, nor had any of their siblings.   
The mother can't believe her son had a broken arm for eleven days before she did anything about it.  Definitely mother-of-the-year award material for sure. :(


Eva @ Eva Bakes said...

Oh no! Hope the arm heals quickly!

Ang said...

Ok so I just typed out a huge story and FB didn't post it. :/ Basically, remember when I broke my knee? The nurse made me walk on it (I couldn't). Then she put me on the bus to take me home. After i tried to get off the bus (and failed), Mrs.Boodell took me to my mom at the intermediate school. Mom said it was just a sprain. My dad got home that night and pronounced it broken. He took me to the orthopod the next day.
So the moral of the story is that you're not the first parent to make that mistake! We get burned by taking our children in and it being nothing, so the next time we're unsure of our thoughts. And now your son has a funny story to tell one day, like I do. :)

ldsjaneite said...

Well, he did cry "wolf" before. :-) Kids gots to learn when to whine about pain. But I'm glad more damage wasn't done!

And aside from a collar bone (in which, what do you to with that?), yeah, none of us had broken bones. That's the one thing I really don't ever want to deal with. Ick.

Tara said...

You did what any mom would do. How are we to tell dramatics from the real deal? But poor kid! That definitely doesn't look fun.