As a parent, probably from one of the first moments you find out you’re expecting you start to realize how fragile their lives are. And expect that there may be (many) trips to the ER throughout their life. I am thankful that we haven’t had any until now, and that this one was super minor in comparison to what could happen. He had gotten hurt on Saturday afternoon but Scott had decided (he is the level headed one) that we didn’t need to go. He even jumped in the pool for a bit but as the night went on he seemed still in a lot of pain and wouldn’t move that arm at all. Then he didn’t sleep much and we decided we should just go and have it checked out as a “just in case.” Grayson didn’t want to go because he was afraid of getting a shot more than anything (thank you four year well-check for that fear)
I have heard before when kids go into the emergency room that they are very cautious of child abuse so I knew I was going to let Grayson answer all of their questions on his own. (I know it’s more on different types of injuries that what he had) But when I was getting him dressed I was mainly concerned with putting him in something we could easily get him in and out of while they checked him out. Just getting him undressed last night was torture for him, so I just put him in a lightweight zip-up jacket. Of course as I was zipping it up I freaking zipped up his chest skin! I wanted to cry, and all I thought was please please don’t tell the nurses I did that! I did ask him if it made him forget his arm pain, harhar.. Bad joke.
Anyway, as per usual I was that annoying mamarazzi snapping pictures of it all. I did try to be discrete but I’m sure the nurses were rolling their eyes at me. But that’s okay, they all loooved Grayson so I don’t think they minded all too much. He sounded so cute when they asked him for his name and birth date, “Grayson Williams, May twentieth” This bottom right picture cracks me up, both do actually but he looks miserable on the right one. But he looks worse than he really was, he just didn’t like the wheelchair.
These next are of his x-rays, this part was sad for me only because he had to keep moving his wrist in different directions. When he had to hold it on it’s side, his poor little wrist was shaking from the pain. That was the worst part of the day for me. The right picture is because I had to stay outside the door and the nurse counted to three really loud and then I was able to come back in. That little smile was for me when I opened the door.
He did not like the bandage and he was ready to go home by this time. Although I will say, we were in and out so fast… We checked in at 8:36 and we were on our way out by 10:15, crazy right. I am so thankful for that.
One last thing I want to remember was last night when he was going to bed he had already been laying in bed for a minute and I realized his blanket was in the living room so I brought it in and he immediately took the other blanket he was using off of himself, and put “his” blanket jut covering the spot on his arm that hurt. His little comfort, it was so cute. And can I just say, that little wristband on his tiny wrist…
I am so thankful for him, and that it wasn’t anything worse.. and for my family who took Carter so we didn’t have to worry about him.
And ps. all I am thinking now is why didn’t I strip him down and pressure wash him outside before I let him come home in clothes he wore at the hospital? Please Lord don’t let us bring home MRSA. Ha!