These are the last pictures of Eli B.C. (before cast). Take a good look at how adorable he is in
those overalls because it's unlikely he'll ever fit into them again.
It started out such a charmed Sunday morning. Eli let us sleep until 8. We made pumpkin french toast. Zach watched Eli while I took a shower and I even had time to blow dry my hair. While Zach took his shower I thought, "it's such a beautiful day. I'll take Eli outside to try and get some energy out before church."
Such good intentions, right?
Now, between the fence of our backyard and the soccer field behind us there is a small, steep hill with prickly weeds hidden in the grass. Freshly sprinklered grass. And there I was, trying so hard to step carefully that I inevitably tripped and fell on my bum. Just a bump. But when I fell I heard a crack, and then Eli started sobbing uncontrollably. Not just the "That was scary!" cry, or "Hey! You bruised my ankle!" cry, but the "Something is wrong and even though you're holding me it's not getting better" cry.
After a few minutes of trying to calm him down and inspect his body (and not seeing anything) he was still sobbing so we went inside and interrupted Zach's shower. It took a while to convince him that we actually needed to take him somewhere, but ten minutes later we were in the car with a still sobbing baby.
Now Elko is not that big, but there is an urgent care near our home. We walked in, told them we thought he had broken his leg, and because they didn't have the equipment they sent us to the hospital ER. So we drove there (Eli still sobbing), waited and waited, and then had some x-rays done. The doctor came and told us that he had indeed broken his leg.
His left femur, in fact.
And the orthopedic surgeon at the hospital didn't feel comfortable putting on the cast so they were sending us to Primary Childrens in Salt Lake.
Never have I been so tempted to swear.
Luckily we avoided the $20,000 helicopter ride (did I mention that Eli wasn't insured?) and they allowed us to drive him ourselves. They splinted him up, loaded him up with Lortab and sent us on our way.
Eli with his other drug of choice: Yo Gabba Gabba.
I don't know how we would have gotten through this
whole experience without it.
We arrived at Primary Childrens 9 hours post-break, at 8 p.m. By 1 a.m. he had been inspected, given an IV, cleaned, drugged, and casted. Because the cast requires you to be absolutely still while they put it on, Eli was put under. My favorite drug by far came when the nurse came to take him away from me and into the OR. The anesthetist gave him some Versed to make him forget the separation and calm him down. It was hilarious. It stung a bit going in, so he screamed for about two seconds, but then he started stroking his hand with an awed expression on his face and then looked up and Zach and laughed. And then laughed at me. And when the nurse held out his arms he went happily to her with his eyes rolling and still smiling.
|Post casting, waiting for him to wake up|
|The car ride home. He was so high he didn't even mind it.|
As my dad so astutely noticed, if we put some
buttons on the front we'd have "The Wrong Trousers".
Ah, that would be nice.
After, "What happened?" The next question out of peoples mouths is "How does the whole diaper thing work?"
Let's just say, it's not pretty my friends. He already reeks.
We tuck a size 2 diaper up into the hole (accompanied by a maxi pad at night) and then a size 5 goes around the whole thing in an attempt to keep it all in place and catch any leaks. We try to change him often to avoid soaking into the cast, but really, he's just going to smell bad for 4-6 weeks. I'm just praying we don't have a blow out.
The only bright side to this whole experience is that we got to make a trip to Utah a little earlier than expected and meet our cute new nephew!
|Welcome to the family Calvin Henry!|
After this first week I cannot bear to watch another episode of "Dinosaur Train" or even "Yo Gabba Gabba". I think by the grace of Sesame Street alone we will survive.