To Cast an Arm

Thursday was one of those days that felt like three. This isn’t exactly uncommon and eventually I’m going to learn not to be surprised by anything. However, when your daughter fractures her arm, a long chaotic day is a given. So many friends and family have expressed concern and curiosity as to what happened. What follows is a rough timeline of events.

Wednesday 8:15pm The telephone rings. My wife jokingly says “that can’t be good.” It’s not. Sloane is having a sleepover with two friends. Not long after arriving, the three girls are jumping on the backyard trampoline. The safety screen is not completely zipped and Sloane inadvertently dismounts, hitting a step stool on the way down with her elbow. She’s now in a great deal of pain. Ice is applied. She thinks she’ll be okay.

8:40pm The pain will not go away and we are called again. This time, I am sent after her. Kristen came home with bad allergies and has taken Benadryl in anticipation of an early night. I’m most qualified to drive.

9:00pm I arrive at our friends house. Sloane is on the sofa, looking miserable. She cannot move her arm, grip or wiggle her fingers. There is some redness and swelling near the elbow. The adults conclude a break seems unlikely. Sloane is determined to finish the sleepover and tries to send me home. A pain spike makes this impossible.

9:10pm We are in the car and are advised of a pediatric minor emergency facility in the neighborhood with late hours. I drive there and take the closest parking spot, roughly 100 yards from the front door. The clinic is neighbors with a Dollar Tree.

9:12pm I kick the door open, carrying Sloane, my wallet and my phone (no pockets). To borrow a line from The Tragically Hip, the receptionist asks, “can I help you,” in a way that says she can’t." Three unidentified employees agree that the injury is beyond the capabilities of the office and suggest I take her to the nearest hospital ER.

9:15pm With a late night at the ER now likely, Kristen shakes off the Benadryl to join me for the trip to Saint Francis--where we have recently spent more late nights than any bar or nightclub. Sloane is no longer screaming and seems tired.

9:30pm As we arrive at Saint Francis, Sloane is asleep. We ask her if she’d like to go home and see her doctor the next morning or continue to the ER. She pleases everybody by asking to go home.

Thursday 8:00am Kristen calls me at work. She can’t find her car keys. They are in the backseat of my car, some twenty miles away. I bring them home. The sun is shining so the OHP is conducting a fundraiser on I-44.

8:15am I return home with the keys. The doctor’s office doesn’t open until 8:30. The three of us watch Chicken Little until 8:30.

8:30am An appointment for 9:45 is secured. I go back to work with the understanding that I will be called in for relief should the appointment run long.

10:15am I am called to meet the two of them at radiology building near Sloane’s doctor’s office on the Saint Francis campus.

10:50am I take over and Kristen goes to work.

10:55am We are called back for a set of x-rays that prove to be torturous. Getting the proper images involve Sloane moving her arm in ways that is very painful. She cries and screams but we get enough.

11:15am Sloane, showing her mother’s tendencies, demands to see the x-rays, though none of us can interpret them.

11:20am On the way out, Sloane notes the preponderance of old people in the waiting room. “That’s what they do, Sweet Pea,” I tell her. “Just like I go to work and you go to school, they go to the doctor.”

11:35am Sloane is at my office eating crackers and watching Miraculous on an unused computer.

11:45am The fracture is confirmed. The cast will be put on at 2:30 at EOOC, which is near the radiology center which is near the doctor’s office on the Saint Francis campus. (This is later amended to 2:45, though we are required to arrive by 2:30).

2:27pm We are seated across from the aquarium and I am filling out forms asking about my six-year old’s use of alcohol and tobacco. Food Network is playing on the television on the wall.

2:30pm Another cooking show featuring Bobby Flay starts. Contestants compete to compete against him in a cook-off. When did chefs begin rival pilots on the arrogance scale?

2:45pm We are called into a confessional-sized office where cost is discussed. The upshot is that my insurance isn’t nearly as good as HR said it was. We will be dropping money, but the figures vary greatly I am Mark Ratner out with Stacey and call for help.

2:55pm We are back in the waiting area in time to see Flay emerge victorious thanks in part to a beet reduction sauce.

3:00pm Valerie Bertinelli is on a Food Network show. Ironic and ballsy.

3:10pm We are called into an even smaller office to confirm what we had been told earlier. I authorize the staff to put a cast on my daughter’s broken arm and we return to the waiting room.

3:35pm We are led into a room marked Cast Room. It is long and narrow. Sloane takes a seat on the bed and waits for the doctor who looks too much like Richard Kiel. I ask if there is a wrist to elbow option that would allow Sloane to keep playing baseball. I am only partially joking.

3:40pm The assistant takes over, doing all the work. Sloane picks out pink and purple camouflage and a waterproof pad.

3:45pm I cannot believe how much this is going to cost. The process is simple and the materials can’t be that expensive. If only we had Sam Losco around.

3:50pm I am checking out. Sloane has wandered off, so the clerk assumes that I am getting the cast though I’m clearly not wearing one. She initially charges me for the adult size.

5:30pm We are at the Westside YMCA touring the campgrounds where Sloane will be going this summer. She shows no ill effects.