My bedside manner is seriously lacking. Don’t believe me? Ask my middle child – the one I told to put a Band-Aid on the cut which eventually required 8 stitches. He’ll corroborate my complete fail as a nurse, trust me. The most recent example of my abysmal diagnostic skills occurred last weekend. Let me tell you about it.
Saturday my youngest son was a guest at a birthday party held at Skyzone, a trampoline place in Menands. Sidenote: Waze pronounces Menands “men ands” which cracked us up each time we heard it. Anyway, I arrived to pick him up at the end of the party only to find that he was limping and unable to put any weight on his left leg. I pulled the car up to the door and brought him home where he settled in on the couch. I looked at his leg and noted no swelling or bruising in the area where he said it hurt – the back of calf. He declined Advil or Aleve and seemed fairly comfortable. I diagnosed a “pulled muscle” and figured he’d feel better in the morning.
Sunday morning he woke up and said his leg hurt and rated his pain a 6 on a scale of 1-10. I gave him Aleve and suggested a bath with Epsom salts. Despite my medical care and advice, he continued to hop around the house, something I found more than a little annoying. See? I told you I’m a horrible nurse. He began to soften his stance about not wanting to go to the MD. With his blessing, I called the pediatrician’s office and spoke with the doctor on call asking him how to proceed. He mentioned that the Bone & Joint Center had walk in hours until 3:00 and suggested that as our best move.
We arrived a little after 1:00 and checked in. The waiting room had about a half dozen people in front of us, but we were seen after about 75 minutes, a time span I didn’t find unreasonable. Quinn hobbled to the exam room, pausing to be weighed and measured (he’s a giant, btw) and, after a short wait, a PA came in to examine him. X-rays were obtained and I think we were all surprised to see the fracture in his fibula. The youngest Lilly boy managed to be the first to break a bone.
One red Christmas stocking-esque cast later and we were on our way. The take away?
• I should have heeded the wisdom of E. Stewart Jones who once said to never allow kids to go to trampoline parks or in bouncy houses.
• Broken bones don’t always reveal themselves with swelling, acute pain or discoloring.
• We’re so lucky to have quality health insurance and medical practices that are open on Sundays.
• While I may never receive a special lamp, I did see the light in this case and do the right thing. Just like Quinn’s fibula, I’m getting better.