Little E's Collarbone: Part 3 - X-RAY!
My pilgrimage across the Piedmont Hospital campus ends at Building 95.
For those of you familiar with the area, I've just strolled/walked with the Yoys from the parking deck, to the pediatrician's office, to another building while navigating the random and completely inconvenient crosswalk system. Plus I have my winter coat and boots on and am now breaking a sweat.
We sign in. Little E finds a cup of pencils used to fill out forms, dumps them out and then tries to drink from the dirty cup. Yes!
Big E snuggles up to some cute blond lady and begins explaining the ins and outs of his Leap Pad. Thank goodness she is an elementary school teacher and appears to have endless patience for him.
We get called down to an area where they give Little E a wristband with all of his patient info.
Little E did not get the mandatory hospital wristband memo. He goes ballistic and begins pulling at it.
NO BRACELET! NO BRACELET!
I smile weakly at the hospital administrator and continue on to the empty (thank goodness!!) waiting area.
Before the X-Ray technician retrieves us, the wristband has been torn off by the incredible crying hulk. Unfortunately, Little E experienced wristband remorse and immediately cried for me to fix it.
EXCUSE ME, NURSE, IS THERE A BAR IN THIS PLACE?
We head back to the room. The assistant to the X-Ray technician has the same name as Mr. Yoy's BFF, so I find small comfort in that.
As we walk down the hall, the X-Ray tech whispers to me about the possibility of me being pregnant.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, UM, HELL NO.
Little E hits the brakes right when we attempt to enter the room. I reach over to pick him up off the floor. My back erupts in flames. Little E cries out that I'm hurting him. I want to cry.
I get Little E in the room and Mr. Yoy's BFF corrals Big E into the room as well, but he has to hide back in a safe area.
Little E is going bananas. He is laying on the floor with his back up against the door.
I'm given a super heavy apron to wear to protect me from the radiation.
I bend down to pick up Little E. The apron and the sack of potatoes that was my son about did me in. Shooting pain ran up and down my back.
I wrestle Little E onto the table and hold his arms and chest down while the nurse does the same with his legs.
Big, wet tears run down the sides of his face.
I feel horrible.
But it is over quickly.
Dr. K called around dinner time with the results.
Little E's collarbone didn't fracture. It just bowed up. It'll take about two weeks for the pain to subside and a month or so before he is as good as new.
At least that was the prognosis before he fell out of his chair at dinner.
Maybe I should turn my mom card in. I'm not very good at this.
For those of you familiar with the area, I've just strolled/walked with the Yoys from the parking deck, to the pediatrician's office, to another building while navigating the random and completely inconvenient crosswalk system. Plus I have my winter coat and boots on and am now breaking a sweat.
We sign in. Little E finds a cup of pencils used to fill out forms, dumps them out and then tries to drink from the dirty cup. Yes!
Big E snuggles up to some cute blond lady and begins explaining the ins and outs of his Leap Pad. Thank goodness she is an elementary school teacher and appears to have endless patience for him.
We get called down to an area where they give Little E a wristband with all of his patient info.
Little E did not get the mandatory hospital wristband memo. He goes ballistic and begins pulling at it.
NO BRACELET! NO BRACELET!
I smile weakly at the hospital administrator and continue on to the empty (thank goodness!!) waiting area.
Before the X-Ray technician retrieves us, the wristband has been torn off by the incredible crying hulk. Unfortunately, Little E experienced wristband remorse and immediately cried for me to fix it.
EXCUSE ME, NURSE, IS THERE A BAR IN THIS PLACE?
We head back to the room. The assistant to the X-Ray technician has the same name as Mr. Yoy's BFF, so I find small comfort in that.
As we walk down the hall, the X-Ray tech whispers to me about the possibility of me being pregnant.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, UM, HELL NO.
Little E hits the brakes right when we attempt to enter the room. I reach over to pick him up off the floor. My back erupts in flames. Little E cries out that I'm hurting him. I want to cry.
I get Little E in the room and Mr. Yoy's BFF corrals Big E into the room as well, but he has to hide back in a safe area.
Little E is going bananas. He is laying on the floor with his back up against the door.
I'm given a super heavy apron to wear to protect me from the radiation.
I bend down to pick up Little E. The apron and the sack of potatoes that was my son about did me in. Shooting pain ran up and down my back.
I wrestle Little E onto the table and hold his arms and chest down while the nurse does the same with his legs.
Big, wet tears run down the sides of his face.
I feel horrible.
But it is over quickly.
Dr. K called around dinner time with the results.
Little E's collarbone didn't fracture. It just bowed up. It'll take about two weeks for the pain to subside and a month or so before he is as good as new.
At least that was the prognosis before he fell out of his chair at dinner.
Maybe I should turn my mom card in. I'm not very good at this.
Little E won't need a cast, but the doctor said I could put a sling on him to help limit his arm movement. Um, he won't even wear a winter hat, I'm sure he's not down for an arm sling.
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