Dang it. Again.

On Monday I started driving with my left foot. After the kids were home from school I wanted to go to the quilt shop with Sarah and look at some fabric for the baby. It was to be my first trip away from home on my own to do something enjoyable since spring break.

Sarah and I are happily looking at the fabric when her phone rings. It is Peter and he wants to know why I don't have my cell phone on me. I realize I must have left it on the console in the van. Apparently our neighbor is at our house with John, who has fallen in our living room and is crying about his arm. Nathaniel, who is supposed to be in charge, is no where to be found.

We leave the quilt store and come home. I am certain John is being dramatic. After all, he's been wrapping things around his foot since I broke my ankle. Peter agrees. There is no visible swelling or bruising and the arm doesn't look misshapen in any way.

Fast forward to Tuesday. John is still babying the arm. We have mixed feelings. This is just so John. Sometime in the afternoon I come to the conclusion that we may not have a choice, we'll just never know for sure until we get it x-rayed. Besides, since the bee sting I've been meaning to talk with a doctor about an Epipen.

With rolling eyes Peter and I talk to the doctor. He gives us an Epipen prescription and examines the arm while we wait for the x-rays. When he comes back in from looking at the x-rays he looks at me and says, "It's not good news."

See that bone there on top of the two straight long bones that is pushed over to the left? 

It's not supposed to look like that.

Here's the truth. Peter and I have always been somewhat judgmental of these families that are repeatedly dealing with accident-induced aliments. What is wrong with people, we thought? What are they doing? Our kids have never broken a bone or gotten a stitch. I certainly know that freak things happen, and I feel bad for people when they do. I guess I just thought they didn't happen to us. Until I broke my ankle. And just over three weeks later? I have a doctor telling me John has broken his bone into the growth plate and they are setting us up with the orthopedic surgeon.   
John is over the moon with pride.

Here is John yesterday with us getting lunch. We had just been to the orthopedic doctor where we were told he wanted to put in pins first thing in the morning.

And here is John early this morning all ready for surgery. 

This is the emotional moment where they take him away and steer us into the waiting room.

Lots of anxious minutes later here I am with John as he works on waking up in the recovery room.

Wa-la! All better.

Here is one of the photos the doctor brought out to us of the pins and the bone back in place.

He tells us they will pull them out with pliers at an office visit in six weeks. 

Says they "slide right out."Looking forward to that one.