Something is wrong with my kids’ bones. Really. When she was only three, my youngest broke her arm at summer camp, and then her leg while skiing with the family. And last night, my older daughter broke her arm. While tobogganing. And I wasn’t even there!
So yeah, you can just call me fracturemom. It’s not a title I relish, but in the grand scheme of things, a fracture is a pretty simple thing, as I have now learned for the third time in my life as a mother. After a visit to the emergency ward of the Children’s Hospital, you see and hear children who are far more badly injured and far sicker than your own. Breaking a bone is painful, sure, but broken bones heal.
So when I looked at her arm and realized that it was most likely broken, I wasn’t too freaked out. I gave her Advil, had her lie down, iced her wrist and then cooked dinner. Oh yes I did! We ate, a friend took her little sister off my hands, and we headed out to the hospital. Once there, I texted an update to her Dad. Which got me thinking, I should let my sisters and my Dad know what’s going on. Last time we were here dealing with a fracture, I stood in the hallway frantically making phone calls and getting yelled at by the nurses (no cell phones in hospitals, remember? I didn’t.) Five years later though, and it’s a different world.
Yup – facebook.
And one of the best things about it was the immediate outpourings of sympathy, support and solidarity we got. Dozens of comments on each status update, all from friends and family wishing us well, and offering us help. It was reassuring and heart warming. And instant.
So…thank you facebook. Thank you friends. Thank you staff at Alberta Children’s Hospital!
And a parting shot of my little hero – she even played her clarinet in band rehearsal today! What a trooper.