God bless the incredible nurse who managed to get Jackson in this temporary cast at 1:15 a.m.
About a week-and-a-half ago, Jackson had an unfortunate accident that has shaped our lives ever since.
Keep in mind, as an active four-and-a-half year-old, he is regularly tempting fate with climbing, jumping, and acrobatic feats that cause our stomachs to churn and our blood pressure to skyrocket. Turns out, it only took sitting on a wooden barstool to do him in.
Robert and I were away for a dinner event, and he and Emma were performing a “circus” for their babysitter at home. While casually waiting his turn for the next act, he lost his balance on the 2½ foot tall seat, fell off and landed on his elbow. Boom. A fractured humerus.
Except it hasn’t been humorous at all. It goes without saying that Jackson’s been in pain, but the worst part has been the x-rays. A there have been a lot of them.
From Every Angle
Spot the fracture! (Miraculous X-ray #1)
For the first two hours of our ER visit, Jackson had been surprisingly calm. But as the minutes ticked past midnight, and the more his arm was jostled, his demeanor rapidly deteriorated until he reached hot mess. Which is precisely when the X-ray techs arrived.
I suited up in a lead apron, and buckled down for the rough ride ahead. Screaming. Wailing. Several “Mom, we need you to hold him downs.” Eventually, miraculously, they got a single un-blurry image which we prayed would illuminate the problem.
“Yep, it’s fractured,” a nurse confirmed, nearly an hour later. “Just above the elbow. We’re going to put him in a temporary cast, and then we need to get more pictures so the doctor can determine what to do next.” Fan-freaking-tastic.
Bright blue cast = Out of pain!
Thankfully, x-ray session number two went a little smoother, thanks in large part to a cute nurse who had distracted Jackson with a cherry popsicle while talking to him about kitties and puppies, all the while expertly wrapping his arm in a temporary cast. He was happy as a clam when the x-ray tech took him for a ride on his bed down the hall for more pictures.
Phew! I thought as they gave me the thumbs up that the images were clear. Glad that’s over with!
But the next day, the horror resumed. Turns out, doc needed to see Jackson’s elbow from a different angle – an angle that required him to rotate his arm upside down, for the first time since the break.
You know that old parenting cliché: “this hurts me more than it hurts you?” It’s moments like these where I can understand the sentiment.
I was commissioned to turn and hold Jackson’s arm, as he pleaded with me to stop. “Don’t, mommy, please don’t,” he begged, fat tears rolling down his cheeks and plopping onto the table.
I kept assuring him that it would be over soon. “They’ve got to take a closer look so that the doctor can get you out of pain.”
But by this point, he was in complete hysterics. “Please mommy, don’t; it hurts!!” he shrieked while squirming fiercely, his eyes locked on mine in sheer terror. I told him I was sorry and rotated his arm anyway, holding back my own tears through his screams.
Somehow we made it through, and we rejoined daddy who had overheard the screaming all the way down the hall in the waiting room. The three of us walked silently back to meet with the doctor, accompanied only by the sound of Jackson’s sniffles.
Search Me, O God
That evening Robert kept Jackson home, while I sat on the sidelines of Emma’s soccer practice. I isolated my camping chair away from all the other moms so that they wouldn’t notice the tears rolling down my cheeks.
You know… It hurts to get a closer look.
As I’ve reflected on those first couple of days, a prayer of David keeps coming to mind,
“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” Psalm 139:23-24
This was not an easy prayer. David was inviting God to search him from every angle to isolate the sin in his heart and mind, in order eradicate it from his life. He invited the pain to address the problem. He asked God to take a closer look.
I wonder, when’s the last time I invited that level of scrutiny? Am I willing to go through that kind of pain? Do I invite accountability from others? Do I keep my darkness hidden, or will I expose it into the light?
Am I open to God’s thorough examination, or am I content to carry on with a fractured heart and soul?
Healing demands a closer look.
Oh, To Be Like Him
One week after that first examination, Jackson and I returned for a follow-up visit to the doctor. To say I was apprehensive would be a severe understatement. I prepared myself for the worst.
Much to my surprise, though, the whole thing went mind-blowingly smooth.
An old pro the second visit.
They cut off his cast without issue. He sat silent and still for the x-rays – without me standing anywhere near him for restraint. He patiently held out his arm while they rewrapped his arm in a bright orange replacement cast. And the doctor confirmed he’s healing very well. We could be done with this whole ordeal in approximately two weeks!
Walking out of the office, I gushed to Jackson about his behavior. “I can’t believe how brave you were! You sat so still! You were so good! I am sooooo proud of you!!!!”
Jackson nonchalantly looked up at me like “it ain’t no thing” and explained, “That’s cuz it didn’t hurt this time.”
Well, what do ya know? The closer look brought healing.
On the ride home, Jackson even announced he has new career aspirations. (Which is a real relief, since at last check, he wanted to be a witch.)
“Mommy,” he said, “Someday when I grow up, I want to go there to work.”
“Oh really?” I asked. “You'd make a GREAT doctor!”
“Yeah I would,” he replied, as if the truth of that statement was obvious. “I've got good skills, and I could help people.”
Yes, my son, you certainly could.