Boo boo part 2 (also known as advice from the dairy aisle)

I think my last blog post jinxed my poor sweet baby. He got his cast on Friday and fumbled around for two days, figuring out how to make his little Frankenstein leg work. By Sunday, he agreed to sit and crawl across the ceramic tile and to avoid the marble front of the fireplace all together. I felt a little better when he got that much figured out, but the running around outside still made me edgy - and rightfully so.

10 days into the cast, he tripped and fell. The sitter said he cried a bit, and then wouldn't walk after that. He would stand, but no walking.

Our wonderful sitter was concerned - but she couldn't imagine him breaking a leg while already in a cast. I couldn't believe it either, but, I also doubted that he suddenly decided to be complacent and sit down and play quietly.

After a trip to the ER that night, and then a trip back to his ortho specialist, he was diagnosed with a small fracture in his femur. His below-the-knee cast was cut off, and replaced with a long cast ending at the very top of his thigh. We did get lucky though; our buddy in the cast room hooked us with a waterproof cast without the extra cost. We also got lucky on our way out the door, when the doctor realized he would be on vacation when Daniel was scheduled to get his cast off. After a bit of negotiating, he knocked a week off - yay! Only 3 weeks of peg leg toddler fun!

His new cast has drawn attention, since it is bigger, and since it is red and blue with giant white stars (NOT my choice...the guy who put it on wanted to match the cast to Daniel's outfit). I have been approached by complete strangers every time we have been in the grocery store since he broke his leg.

It always starts off the same....

STRANGER: "oh no! What happen to your baby's leg?"

ME: "he fell down"

STRANGER: "and broke his leg? did he fall off of something?"

ME: "No, actually he has a genetic condition. His bones are more fragile because of defective collagen"

STRANGER "Oh thats too bad! Poor baby! Do you think milk or extra calcium would help?"

Then I'm forced to explain why they're an idiot, when the entire time I WISH I SAID:

ME "My GOD! You have just saved my son and thousands of others from years of suffering. Clearly, NO ONE has thought of that until you just did...amazing, since we're standing in the f'ing dairy aisle. You are a genius. Please take your findings to the OI foundation IMMEDIATELY so we can finally cure this disease. After that, nominate yourself for a Nobel Prize"

I mean, seriously?!?!?!? What part of "genetic defect" made you think cheese and yogurt was the way to go? AND, you really thought dairy was a cure-all, do you think his leg would be broken now?!?!? Today in the store, a teenage boy saved his mother from me spurting out some horribly rude reply. She was going through the usual questions, and right when I thought she was going to say something stupid about milk and calcium, her skater/punk teenage son who had been giving Daniel high fives interupts her and says "dude, that kinda sucks, huh buddy? Guess you should stay off a skateboard when you get bigger". The mom looked mortified, but, I however, enjoyed his completely logical, appropriate, and non-dairy related suggestion. I told the kid he was right, and scooted away before the yogurt lecture could begin!

Sounds like a plan - no skateboarding so things don't suck. I love it!!!

Running with scissors

Running with scissors would be safer than what my child does. My child runs with a broken leg in a cast. He runs with his Frankenstein boot on one foot, and his Nike shock on the other. It drives me crazy! We are only 3 days into this fracture, and my blood pressure is up. Way up.

It seems my son has either re-injured an old boo boo, or he has not been allowing it heal properly. The original break was not casted, because it was so small, it couldn't be seen. So, we played it by ear knowing if he continued to have a problem with it, we could do another xray and would be able to see the new bone growth if it was a break. Daniel did really well, and I assumed he did NOT have a break. After about three weeks of normal behavior, the limp returned! Off we went, back to our fabulous ortho for xrays. The doctor saw the fracture in some state of healing and said it was up to me about casting. Based on his past behavior, I decided to just get it in a cast to give this thing a chance to heal properly.

We picked out a nice 'Carolina Blue' and went with traditional fiberglass (no waterproof this time). He sat there so nicely, watching his leg get bundled up in cotton and cast. It made me sad that he's already accepted this as normal. The minute the last piece of fiberglass is on, he says "done done! down! down!" and he is off. Off and RUNNING. My child is running on a broken leg with a cast that is not even dry. He runs down the hall, peeking in doors (sorry HIPA violations!) and finally gets to the end of the hall, where his doctor is. "Done done!" he says, waving bye bye. That is his way of saying "I prefer not to have to wait for you to come back and check on me. Mom knows the drill, we're leaving". He gives and gets his "high fives", and I get the "we'll bill the copay or catch you next time!" and he drags me out the door.

At home, the real fun begins. Tripping as his feet 'stick' to the carpet. Falling as he regains his balance. Flying head first and biting the dust because his upper body went he faster than his new, heavier, left foot. He heads for the kitchen, and nearly does a split, as we both realize, he has no traction on the tile. I am sweating from chasing him. Repeat this process about 60 times, and that was my weekend :)

He has mastered walking, and almost mastered running. I let him fall today and skin his knee. I felt, badly at first, but he needs to figure out his limits so he can be safe. There was no comprise on the tile floor. He has learned to stop where the carpet ends, to sit down, and crawl across it - and I am proud of him. Now if only he would agree to sit and do puzzles all day....

Visiting "the old guy"...

...and by 'old guy' I mean my Dad. And by the way, am I the only person that has family unwilling to commit to some form of "grandma" and "grandpa"? My mom signs cards "Grandma D'Lux". Daniel doesn't know that many vowels. My dad, although he is the appropriate age to be a grandfather, still thinks he is too young. But he likes being called 'old guy'. Whatev.

My dad is staying at a VA hospital right now. He is (was?) a non-compliant diabetic. He is staying there to complete a work program, have his diet and meds strictly monitored, etc. So far it has been a really good thing for him. For the first time since I can remember, he is taking care of his diabetes appropriately. The wing he stays in is filled mostly with vets who are recovering from substance abuse or who have some sort of manageable mental illness. Some of them are sort of sad, and remind you of people you would find in a less than wonderful nursing home. Some are very haggard, others just a little weathered. Most are 50-60, but a few younger guys passed by.

I had taken the baby there once before to visit, and he was pretty shy and was afraid. But today was a beautiful day so we stayed outside. Several guys were with my dad, anxiously waiting for us to arrive. Apparently they had all heard about him from my dad and were excited to meet us. Suddenly this group of guys who were sitting around chain smoking are now yelling at each other to "put that shit out" around the baby. Guys in wheelchairs and scooters whose eyes were cast down were now coming over to see if the baby would let them get close, or if he was afraid of their wheels. My son chased after them going 'brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" and they all laughed into fits of coughing.

They all waited for the baby to warm up to them then went in for their "high fives". One of them who is friendly with my dad insisted on playing ball with him. It was so funny to see them chase after the baby, so worried he'd hit his head on the picnic table, or fall on the sidewalk.

They all had stories to relay about their own grandkids, and they all had their bits of advice: "thats good - give him strawberries instead of all that candy and cookies". "Teach him to hold hands in the street". They all cracked up when the baby would flash his big cheesy grin and giggle at them.

It was a fun afternoon. Hopefully some seeds of respect have been planted in my son, and hopefully he brightened the day for few very important people. We left such an impression, that we were invited back to "jam" on Saturday. I hear there is karaoke involved....