Friday afternoon we stopped by a local mall for awhile. There was a small play area in the food court--just your basic rubbery-plastic animals to climb on and jump off of; nothing more than three feet high or so. Katie went off with Grandma and her cousins to do some shopping and then a sleepover while Jorge and August ran around in the play area for about 45 minutes without incident. Just as we were getting ready to leave, Jorge did one last demonstration of his climbing skills, fell off, and came screaming over with a hurt left wrist.
Rob ran over to the Taco Bell for a plastic bag full of ice and we headed straight home as planned, dosing him with some Motrin from the stash in the diaper bag. Once home we let him watch a few episodes of old GI Joe cartoons and continued with the ice rotations. By bedtime he was mostly over it but we slid a roller-blading wrist guard on and wrapped it (very lightly) with an Ace bandage for good measure. Since Katie was out for the night, we had him sleep in her bed rather than his upper-bunk. I didn't want him having to climb up and down the ladder with one hand if he needed to use the restroom in the middle of the night.
Naturally this means he fell out of bed at 2 AM. I spent the rest of the night with him out of sheer pity. He was having a rough night.
Saturday was mostly fine. He moaned around a bit when he couldn't lift something or play as hard as he wanted or ride a bike, but otherwise was operating without a brace most of the time, only icing it occasionally, no swelling or bruising. Saturday night he went to bed with the brace again and promises that tomorrow would feel even better.
Sunday morning Rob had a bike race about 40 minutes away and left at 7 AM. I knew he'd be on the bike with his phone in the car from around 8:00 until close to 11:30. Jorge woke up and went about his morning without a brace or wrap. He seemed to be pretty much fine. But naturally at 8:30 he tripped over something in the living room and landed on the same wrist. He came screaming into the kitchen for another ice pack, hugs, and general misery.
Having seen Friday's identical display, I told him to sit and watch a movie (Bambi, if you care) and we'd see how he felt after that. He cried the whole way through the movie, asking if we could go to the doctor soon. As soon as it ended he begged to go to the hospital. Fine.
Remember, Rob's out of town and out of communication. Three kids. "Urgent" "Care" center. URGH. I half-heartedly called a neighbor who wasn't home and then packed all three into the car. The urgent care center was packed and some loudmouth woman was going on and on about every local news story and another older woman was itching at herself furiously while her daughter kept arguing with her that it was probably poison ivy and I tried to keep a nap-ready August from putting his face on everything. Jorge, meanwhile, had screamed all the way there which at least made me optimistic that we'd get some priority service. But the second we got out of the car in the parking lot he was all smiles. He sat and grinned pleasantly in the waiting room and read to August. He smiled demurely at the nurses. Nothing.
Eventually we got called up to check in. Eventually we were taken back for triage. Thankfully the nurse was thinking ahead and "got some eyes on it" to agree we'd want an x-ray (versus waiting until we got a room an hour later and then having to wait another hour while they got the results and such) so after another 15-20 minutes in the waiting room we were called back for x-rays. Another 30 minutes or so in the waiting room and we got a room. After 20 more minutes or so the doctor walked in: "Yep, it's broken."
They wheeled the casting supplies in right behind him and set to work. Jorge was casted within a few minutes and left to harden for 15 minutes while they got the paperwork and referrals in order. About this point Rob saw the messages and called to see what he could do; offering to come pick up Katie and August. But we were nearly done so I set him to making lunches and getting the house back in order (we'd left in a rather disorderly pajama-strewn mid-morning state) and we were home by 1. We had lunch and our nieces came over to play/distract for most of the afternoon. By bedtime he was pretty comfortable maneuvering it, but was still dismayed to have his elbow stuck at 90 degrees like a Barbie doll and unable to do simple tasks.
Tomorrow we have the temporary cast replaced with the real deal which will stay on for about six weeks but will only go from mid-forearm to thumb so he'll have his elbow movement back.
Day 17 of summer vacation. Only 73 more to go!