I can post this picture, and I don't even need to give you three guesses as to why we were here or for whom. Because you already know.
Yep. It was this one. And NOBODY is surprised. In case you've forgotten, this is the third time we've ended up here. The first time around, she was only 20 months old. And it was legit. And the second time? Maybe not so much. I told her this really is getting old. Arms and hands are boring now. Been there done that. Next time she needs to go for the leg or something. Oh, I jest. I don't even know what to say about this. She was upstairs playing tag on Saturday. Or so the story goes. She went to tag someone and missed. Supposedly she couldn't stop her forward motion and ran into the wall. That's what she said, and no one else is claiming otherwise, but it's awfully suspect. She had her hand out so it took the brunt of her weight. She came downstairs pouting and complaining. She couldn't really tell me exactly how she hit her hand so I still don't know if it was palm-first or if her thumb was out, and it jammed. She woke up Sunday morning all out of sorts. She couldn't put her clothes on or brush her hair or get her shoes on. Pitiful. But her thumb and entire palm were swollen. You know what it looks like when you blow air into one of those rubber surgical gloves? That's what her hand looked like. She couldn't bend her thumb at the lower joint. I really thought it was nothing more than a bruise, but knowing there is a growth plate there, I didn't want to take any chances.
After church Seth told her we were going to take her to the doctor. She perked right on up. She was absolutely giddy. I cut my eyes at him and told him to go right on ahead. She's flitting around the waiting room like a butterfly (we were the only ones in there so no worries!), just a chattering about getting an x-ray. I mean, girlfriend was in her element! She has a thing for x-rays and slings. I didn't get to go back with her for the x-ray, but I was with her when they put her in the exam room. The doctor finally comes in and confirms there are no broken bones. He said he didn't think there were any torn ligaments but that if the swelling didn't go down, and she didn't have better movement by Thursday, we'd need to come back. I could tell she was a bit disappointed. But then he said they were going to wrap it and put her arm in a sling for a few days, and she got that little sparkle back in her eye. Her day was made! I didn't bother to tell him we already have two slings at home. I just sat there shaking my head.
When we left, she was chattering a mile a minute about the x-ray machine and asking me all sorts of questions about the "black thing" on it. I mean, how in the world am I supposed to know? I told her she should become a doctor or a nurse. Or, at the very least, an x-ray tech. She was like, "Nah. I think I'd rather work at a gas station."
A gas station?
I looked outside yesterday afternoon, and she was JUMPING ON THE TRAMPOLINE. And she was staring me down through the window. I know she was absolutely certain I was going to go running out the back door and fuss at her to get down. I just turned around and left the room.
She is fine. Really. She. is. fine. The swelling is almost completely gone now, but she made sure to tell me tonight that she still can't put her hair up. I told her I was sure she'd probably be able to do that tomorrow.
