Of Broken Bones

No one in my family has ever had a cast: Not me or my brother or sister {don’t get me wrong we broke bones, just not ones that could be set}. I’ve had no experience with broken bones and casts. Alas, I can say that has ended.

A couple of weeks ago Henry was really fussy when you would touch his left leg. Nothing had happened to cause the pain that we could think of; we chalked it up to his having twisted something and gave it a few days, and it got better.

Then on Friday night Matt was walking down the stairs with Henry and fell. Henry started being especially careful with his leg, he didn’t like it when you changed his diaper or put socks on him, he wouldn’t put any weight on his leg. We decided that it was time to go to the doctor.

Sure enough, he has a hairline fracture of his left ankle. It’s such a miniscule hairline that the doctor had to enlarge the frame to fill the screen with a 1” section of his leg in order to see it. Our pediatrician sent us to the orthopedist to get another opinion, they decided that it should be casted. I think it was rather unnecessary, but at least we don’t have to be careful with his leg.

So my morning was spent with Henry getting his leg wrapped in blue plaster. Fun. He is now sporting a dark blue cast from his toes to his lower thigh {a bit excessive I thought}, but he seems to be managing it relatively ok. It’s only for 3 weeks and hopefully it doesn’t bother him too much. If it does the doctor said to come back and they’ll take it off.

He was a trooper though, and now I know what is involved with having a cast.

I guess God had His reasons as to why the kids’ Christmas outfits came out so big…it was to fit this lovely cast.