Monday night, this little Monkey was jumping with Molly on her bed. Then this little monkey fell off and bumped his.....arm. And ohhhh did this little monkey cry and cry and cry. Something was wrong.
Sam and I wanted to take him in to the family practice clinic in town, but at 4:30, they were closed for the day and not taking patients. So then we debated: do we want Christmas this year? Because there will be no Christmas with an ER bill. Isn't it sad when you have to think like that?
Ultimately we decided that yes, he was in pain, but no, he wasn't dying. We got Timothy settled on the couch with his arm propped up on some pillows and blankets and set him up with a frozen pack of peas. He was OK as long as you didn't move his arm, touch his arm, breathe on his arm, or even look at his arm.
That night he slept in our room, flat on his back, with his arm propped up on pillows. With the help of a little bit of tylenol, he fell asleep. He woke a few times in the night, whining and clearly uncomfortable, but he made it to morning.
In the morning, still in as much pain as the night before, we headed off to the family practice clinic in town. Getting x-rays done on his arm was awful. He screamed as we maneuvered his arm to get the right shots. Annoyingly, the x-rays showed nothing. No breaks, no fractures, nothing. I was happy about this, of course, but he was in so much pain, there WAS something wrong. Why didn't the x-ray show it? Dammit.
The Dr. we saw, while nice, just wasn't on her game. She didn't offer any type of explanation, she just suggested we semi cast his arm, wrap it, and put it in a sling. See ya back in a week!
I left mad.
After all those tears, I couldn't resist taking Timothy to his favorite place to try to cheer him up. One yummy cupcake later and we were ready to go home for some chill time.
Mad and unsatisfied with not getting an answer as to what was wrong with Timothy's arm, I spent much of the rest of the day googling. Armed with some ideas and in need of a second look and opinion, Sam tried to get Timothy into the orthopedic in The Dalles, but they didn't have any openings for a week. He then took his notes and x-rays to our chiropractor who couldn't see anything in the x-rays either. I called his pediatrician to talk to her, but she wasn't in. UGH. Instead I chatted with a nurse at the pediatrician's office and gave her the low down and my thoughts of what I think it could be. She told me that she didn't know what it could be, that clearly it wasn't broken or fractured if the x-rays didn't show it, that it sounded like a muscle sprain and to go ahead and ice it, give him tylenol or ibuprofen, and have him rest.
Ok, so it's not broken or fractured. I get it. But it's also not a muscle sprain....I just know its not. It's something else. My Mama gut is telling me it's something else.
He was so dang cute in that sling. And thankfully it did help with the pain....as long as his arm was still, he was ok.....but as soon as it was out of the sling, or I had to unwrap his arm to adjust the wrap or something, he cried out in pain. And good lord, when he slipped and fell on his arm while running through the living room (when he was suppose to be sitting, chilling out); that cry lasted for 10 minutes.
Wednesday morning I got a phone call from a different nurse at the pediatrician's office. Apparently the nurse I had previously talked to left a note that I had called with my issue and desire for a second look and opinion. Timothy's pediatrician was in, read the note, and of course wanted to see us....because clearly it was something.
Finally someone was listening!
I got him in at 5, and after listening to the story of him falling, how he was holding his arm after he fell, how he didn't want to move it, how much pain he was in, looking at the x-rays, and examining him, his pediatrician came to the conclusion that Timothy had Nursemaid's Elbow; something that I had also considered and previously brought up in conversation. Its odd that he got it from a fall when typically children get it from being pulled on, but that's what it was.
She put both hands on his arm, and with a little of this and a little of that, just as he was welling up with tears and about to cry out, there was a "pop."
It was magic, I tell you! His pain was instantly reduced by, I'd say, 50%. All that pain and all those tears and all we had to do was get his elbow popped back into place. Poor, sweet boy. See, I knew it was something. Mama's instinct. Thank goodness for his awesome pediatrician who listened. Why was Nursemaid's Elbow such a hard thing for everyone else to figure out?
He's still favoring it a bit today, as I'm sure there is a little bit of lingering pain, but I'm thankful we are good to go!
NO MORE MONKEYS JUMPING ON THE BED! I taught him that song. ;)