As a parent, I also get a sinking feeling in my stomach every time I get a daytime call from the kids' school. Last Monday, my phone rang, and I saw that number. When I picked up the phone, it was the sweet and gentle voice of the school nurse. She informed me that Barrett had fallen from the playground at school, and landed on his arm. He was saying his arm hurt, and she thought I should come get him. She was so calm, and I was so conditioned to my children falling and being fine, I figured it wasn't a big deal. I still agreed to come get him and take him to urgent care.
When I arrived at the school about 20 minutes later (I had to drive there from work), the arm had swelled up pretty badly and the nurse was pretty certain it was broken. So, instead of urgent care, we headed to the ER. This whole time, Barrett was clearly in pain. I couldn't make him laugh or really even talk to me the whole time we drove to the hospital. When we got there, the nurse's were cheerful and tried to engage him by asking questions, and he just didn't respond to them. All he'd say was that his arm hurt really badly. They gave him some potent pain killers after we got checked in, and about 15 minutes after that, I saw him smile for the first time since I picked up from school. At that point, I was able to relax. I'd had broken elbows before, and I survived. Now that he was perking up, I figured he'd get some x-rays, they'd put on a cast, and we'd be out of there before bedtime.
When we arrived at the hospital, they went through the standard set of questions about what happened, when did it happen, where did it hurt, etc. They asked me several times though when he last ate. By the third time they asked me, I started to get nervous. I knew why they were asking. In the back of their minds, they were thinking some sort of surgery. I know that's a standard question, but the exactness they expected in the answer made it clear that they knew it was a very likely scenario for Barrett. About an hour and some x-rays later, they'd determined he'd fractured his elbow and needed pins to hold the bone in place while it healed. Pins mean surgery. On top of that, it was too late in the day to get him in at the out-patient clinic there, so we were going to have to stay overnight at Children's so he could get the pins put in first thing the next morning. The good news was that the pain medicine was doing it's job, and the nurses put on a splint to hold the arm in place until the next morning.
At 5:15, they took Barrett for some additional x-rays before his surgery. By 5:45, they'd administered the anesthesia and by 6, they'd rolled him away to put the pins in his elbow. Billy and I were more nervous than Barrett. He didn't seem to care; I think he was just enjoying the additional screen time he got while he was at the hospital, since he was prohibited from doing much of anything else.
An hour later, the surgery was over, and we were taken to Barrett in the post-op room. I was wholly unprepared for what happened next. His arm was in a red cast, just as he'd requested. He still had an IV hooked up along with some other monitors. As we walked in, he was attempting to roll onto his stomach, and the nurse was quickly trying to rearrange the cords and monitors so he wouldn't hurt himself. We began to talk to him, and it became clear he wasn't completely awake yet. He was, however, very angry about the cast that was on his arm and the pain he was feeling beneath it. He kept rolling, trashing, and hitting the cast with his good hand. He was yelling things like "set this off of me," "I don't want this," and "my arm hurts." It was hard to watch even though I knew it was just a reaction to the anesthesia. I shouldn't have been totally surprised either, because he has never been good at waking up from a deep sleep. I ended up climbing up in the bed with Barrett and bear-hugging him to help calm him down and prevent him from hurting himself worse.
It took about 30 minutes for Barrett to get past the angry, disgruntled stage. Honestly though, he may have just been hangry, because he hadn't eaten since 2 pm the previous day. As soon as he had calmed down, he asked for breakfast. The nurse brought him a Sprite and some crackers to start with, and after chowing down on those, he was allowed to order breakfast. Once he was fed, he was back to his normal self.
Within just 3 hours of surgery, Barrett was begging us to let him get up and go play. He was tired of sitting in the hospital bed, tired of screen time, and tired of the hospital jammies. So, the nurse let him get dressed in his normal clothes and go to the kids' playroom. He did so well there, that she talked to the doctor about letting us go home, which we did about an hour later. Were home in time for lunch!
Through this entire experience, there are two things that have been absolutely clear. First, that God is working for us. For instance, I was supposed to be leaving on a work trip the day Barrett had surgery, but I'd canceled my trip just the week before. Also, a neighbor was able to come stay with Audrey and Fletcher so I could get to the hospital before Barrett's surgery. The second thing is that Barrett is a tough kid. He definitely has a sensitive side, and there are still a lot of tears shed when he gets really upset. But, through this entire experience, he hardly cried or whined. He took it all in stride, and his positive attitude made the whole thing easier for everyone.
While those first days were stressful because of the hospitals and general logistics of it all, the next couple of weeks are still going to be rough. Barrett has to allow his arm to heal by resting, keeping it elevated, and not being too rough. The combination of those three things is next to impossible for a kindergartner that's been cooped up in the house all winter as spring is starting to emerge outside. I am definitely praying for quick healing and patience with the healing process!
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