A little over a week ago, Boy Three got his hand stomped in football practice. It swelled and appeared generally painful but since our youngest male child has a gift for milking injuries, we decided to just watch it a few days.
One day turned to three turned to five turned to a week and the hand wasn’t looking much better. Luke and I had been told the doc wouldn’t do anything for a finger so we buddy taped it and hoped it would miraculously heal. Something about getting it re-stomped in football practice 4 days per week seemed to hinder that from happening so Monday, I decided to sacrifice the co-pay and take him to the orthopedic office.
It was fractured. My heart AND his finger.
I did feel a little better when the doc suggested we keep buddy taping (taping the pinky to the next finger) because that proved that my internet diagnosis and subsequent medical treatment wasn’t too far off base from the guy with 8 years of highly specialized training. However, when I told him he wanted to keep playing football he came up with a plaster splint option to protect him from getting stomped again.
Because all good parents send their kids right back to the field with broken bones, right?
Dr. P. is a sports medicine guy so he didn’t look at us like we were abusive freak parents although I’m feeling the glare through the screen from some of you who may. No worries. Our son couldn’t love us more because he’s convinced that any kind of paraphernalia that makes you appear as though you are playing through some level of pain makes you incredibly cool.
So I’m wondering, am I the only mom who has ever put off a doctor’s visit only to find out the child should have been there forever before?
I’m totally hoping you say yes. If not, just leave your address in the comments so I’ll know on which doorsteps to leave my children.