They took an x-ray and said they would need to make some "adjustments," so he wanted us to come back a week later. He said he wanted to wait so Biscuit's arm wouldn't be quite as tender and swollen. That immediately told me it was going to hurt him. Basically, the bones weren't lined up perfectly straight, so they were going to have to straighten them.
Biscuit completely missed the part about his next appointment being painful. Although he is usually more logical about medical stuff, the cast he had at the time was uncomfortable, and he had to wear his sling all the time and keep his arm elevated.
"You mean I have to wear this thing longer?!" Biscuit said to the doctor. And he raised his voice a little.
I was torn about how to respond. I wanted to tell him he could ask all the questions he wanted, but he was not allowed to raise his voice like that. The other part of me understood how frustrated he was.
So I walked over and put my arm around his shoulders. And I didn't say anything.
As we were checking out, the woman making the appointments looked at the calendar, then got up and walked back where the doctors and nurses worked.
She came back a couple minutes later and gave us an appointment TWO weeks later instead of one like the doctor said. She had gone back to ask the doctor if it would be okay to wait another week, and he said yes.
So then I had the joy of telling Biscuit that he'd have to wear that frustrating cast for TWO more weeks.
Those were two longs weeks.
We got up for his appointment last Friday, and all three of us had stomach aches. And I can tell you there was nothing physical wrong with us. We were all just nervous!
I had been asking people to pray for us, send us good thoughts or positive mojo or whatever they had.
We showed up for his appointment and they took us back. Then we saw this medieval torture device sitting beside the exam table. I looked at Jeff, and he looked at me, and we both had big, round eyes wondering what in the heck they were going to do with that thing.
I looked it up on my phone, and apparently, you lie down on the table, and they put your fingers in those little mesh metal sleeves. With your hand elevated, they put a weight on the other side to stretch your arm, which lines the bones back up. I cannot possibly feel good.
They came to get him for an x-ray, and Jeff and I were pretty much panicking, wondering how much they were going to hurt our boy.
But the doctor came back in and said the bones had lined up, and no adjustments were needed! Yay for prayers, good thoughts and positive mojo!
The technician came in and told Biscuit that she would be replacing his cast. She needed to get some stuff ready, so she told him to pick out what color he wanted. I've seen colored casts, but I didn't realize how many colors they had. There was red, blue, green, yellow, orange, pink, white, purple and black.
The technician came back in and unwrapped his arm. It looked Frankenstein-ish because of the stretchy bandages from his first cast.
After she unwrapped it, she helped him over to the sink where she washed it. She said the water was warm, but Biscuit just started shaking. He said the soap felt like it was freezing him.
The technician told Biscuit to hold his left hand like a basket. Then put his right wrist into it. She wanted him to hold it that way while she started the cast.
And of course, Biscuit picked red. It's still his favorite.
Jeff and I have never broken anything, so we've never seen a cast put on before. But I was happy to see that the first layer was soft cotton batting. I know that had to feel much better than the stretchy bandages.
Biscuit had been scheduled to go to my parents' house the weekend he broke his wrist. So once we found out he was getting a regular cast, we called and set the wheels in motion. We took him halfway there Saturday where they met us.
Biscuit took a nap on the way down.
I had a hard time letting him go. Actually, I told Mama that it was second hardest time I had letting him go, right after his very first trip there.
But of course, they're taking great care of him, and he's having a great time. I can't wait to see him this weekend.
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