The wires are out!

Today was a big day.  But, so was Friday, when we returned to the park and actually played a little bit (not on the play structure, of course).  Doesn't she look triumphant?

Below are photos of the X-rays taken of her arm today, so that the surgeon could decide whether to remove the wires. Aren't you glad you don't have wires like that in your arm? And aren't you glad they didn't need to be removed?  I thought so.


So you have a sense of Lizzie's mood, let me tell you that she started crying when she woke up this morning. Our last visit to the hospital, she agreed, had not resulted in any pain at all. I suggested that we could look on the bright side; that today may also be pain free (I did this without too much guilt as I knew that it was not guaranteed that the wires would come out). But by the time we actually arrived at the hospital (to begin our 1.5 hour wait), I was a little bit frustrated by the crying.  I know I am a bad person.

Anyway, the moment the nurse started to remove the cast, she freaked out and I decided we would try something new:  an iPad to distract.  And it mostly worked.  I felt pretty silly.  But I was also pretty desperate.

The arm, before the wires were removed (don't worry; it's always been super skinny):

I didn't take any photos of the surgeon removing the wires, but that may have been a bit rude? Anyway, he used pliers, and he was quick.  I stupidly forgot to give Lizzie ibuprofen before we left home, so there may have been a bit more pain than was necessary.  (Sorry, Lulu!)  He offered to let us keep the wires but she screamed, "NO, NO AND NO!"  So I respected that -- much to my husband's disappointment:  "Couldn't you have just sneaked one into your bag?"

Below was after the wire removal.  She was a wreck.  I kept reminding her that the wires would never need to be removed again.  It didn't really help.  She didn't perk up until the same man put her cast on as last time.  This guy (his son is in university in North Carolina) was amazing with her -- which was important as nobody else, including me, was permitted to touch her arm.  She has a hard cast now, and a date with the art teacher to borrow some sharpies so that her classmates can sign it.

After we left the hospital:  "I feel so much better!"  And, having ice cream for lunch as promised.

I found her sleeping later in the afternoon.  It was a big morning.

On how to parent a child in a cast, with wires in her bones:

Just kidding. She shouldn't be doing any of these things. But, she does have on a sleeve that keeps her cast dry and clean.

I'm pretty sure the rock climbing is the worst of the three.  (In the second photo, she is looking in the gutter to see if there are baby birds in the nest.  There aren't.)  And to be honest, we won't be allowing that activity again until she's 100%.  It was just really hard to keep her off that really neat 'pirate ship' they are playing on.

Guess who's 40?

That's right, it's ELI.  He took the day off and while he was initially very stressed out and grumpy about it, he was in a very relaxed and nice mood after having a massage.  Then, we went to the Hyatt (by ourselves! without supervising any children!) and he had a burger and a beer for lunch.  Healthy? No.  Birthdayish?  YES.

So then he went to play in the parents v kids soccer game for Tommy's team, which he would have missed had he been at work.

And then it was time for birthday dinner and the birthday interview!  The birthday interview is obviously my favorite part as I am the one who forces us to do it (and has been forcing Eli to do it every year since we were married).  (Watch out if you come to our house on your birthday.)

We celebrated with our lovely and amazing friends on Thursday night.  As we walked to the car at the end of the evening, Eli told me it was just what he wanted and that he had loved it.  YAY!

The only photo I took on his bday.

Funny ones

Lizzie:  [points at a picture of a Ferris Wheel] Mom, how do you get out of one of those things?

****

Me:  "Uncle Andy is going to visit us!"

L:  "Is he bringing his cousins?"

****

Me:  "I wonder what you're going to look like when you grow up."

L:  "I'm going to have brown hair.  And be very fancy.  And maybe I'll look like Meghan Trainor but I'm not going to be a singer.  I'm just going to have kids."

****

L:  "If I were God and I were picking babies to send to a person named Lizzie, I would send a boy and a girl."

****

One of the kids' favorite activities in the car is to send messages to Eli.  Eli pretty quickly figures out he's texting with them, because Lizzie's are mostly emoticons with "love lizzie eli" randomly thrown in.  But Tommy's are a bit more sophisticated.  After Eli called him a monkey yesterday, Tommy replied:

"Smart guy how dare you send mean messages to your WIFE!!!"  When I read it this morning, I couldn't stop laughing.

Another broken arm update

We went back to the hospital on Thursday to get a new cast and to make sure Lizzie is healing well.  The good news is that she's on track; the bad news is that we were there for hours (it's a public hospital, Lizzie used the time to nap) and that it was pretty scary for Lizzie to have them take off her cast and look at her arm.  Our nurse was pretty awful (she told Lizzie if she didn't stop crying that I would leave, and that she would get an injection), but we hit the jackpot with the guy who put the cast on and so she was settled by the end of the process.

Apart from the hospital, she is in good spirits and back to her old self.  She does not take too much care of her arm at all unless the sling is off.  During those times, she walks around tenderly holding her cast with her right arm and asking for the sling.

We are coming into swimming season here, and she's sad that she cannot swim, but I've read about a cast protector that I am considering trying to find.  She's also sad that she won't be able to do gymnastics until the autumn...

Tears are drying!

The slide she fell from -- it's not very high!

Progress

Today, my sweet Lu feels back to her normal self.  (She is still happiest in front of crappy television -- why did we ever get Netflix?)  She does not hold her left arm with her right hand anymore.  She told me she hated me when I was trying to elevate her arm and my head got in the way of the television.  She chose a dart board as her "I was so brave when I broke my arm" reward.  She complained that it "really hurt" when I brushed her hair.

I know we've had this conversation before, but my biggest problem is now that I am her number one playmate for the next week, and I dislike playing.  I don't mind drawing or painting, and I love reading and playing cards, but as soon as I'm assigned a role ("pet shop owner", "mother cat", "Olaf"), I feel restless and bored no matter what charming things come out of my children's mouths.

This is why I'm going to take Lizzie to school for a few hours each morning next week, no matter what happens.  I'll stay with her (she can't go to the bathroom alone yet, plus she absolutely cannot fall on her arm), but we shall be heading to TAISM so that my child can play with other children who do not feel despair when someone (who is not a cat) meows at them.

(But honestly, I am SO RELIEVED that she feels so much better.)

Another trip to the hospital, another illegal parking job

In traffic on our way home.  She still loves to sleep in the car.

Breaking news, round two (updated, a tiny bit)

Do you all remember when Tommy broke his arm?

On Saturday afternoon, Lizzie took a turn -- except that it was a much different (WORSE) experience in every way.

We were at the park; I was chatting with another mom, Tommy was playing soccer and Lizzie was playing on the new pirate ship structure, when all of a sudden I heard horrible screaming.  I said to the other mom, "that's not Lizzie?" and she said, "IT'S LIZZIE, IT'S LIZZIE" at the same time.  So I sprinted over to her and found her lying on the ground beside the slide with a bunch of other moms (the type who stay near their children while they play) surrounding her.  I was so panicked that I didn't even really register that they were telling me she'd broken her arm, and I just sort of scooped her up and headed away.

Of course we had scooted to the park so I immediately called Eli and told him to come pick us up and amazingly he was already in his car (driving out to site for a very important meeting he had to ditch).  It took him 13 minutes to reach us but it felt like an eternity.

[During these 13 minutes, Lizzie was repeatedly cried:  "It's all my fault! You TOLD me never to climb up the slide!  You told me!  And now I broke my arm and it's all my fault!!"]

He arrived and we went to Muscat Private Hospital.  Non-Omani people are not admitted to government hospitals, so we always have to go to private hospitals -- at least to begin the process of referral/admission to government hospitals.

Earlier in the day, at Shake Shack before going to see the new chipmunks movie for the second time.

The picture below is waiting for X-ray at Muscat Private.  The twenty minutes we were in that X-ray room were some of the worst minutes in my life.  She was in HORRIBLE PAIN and the X-ray technician was possibly not experienced.  So they put the arm out 'straight' -- due to the break it was actually 'z' shaped -- while Lizzie screamed and screamed.  (I felt like a horrible person because I had told her that X-rays were just photos, they didn't hurt.)  So the woman finally got the machine in position and it STOPPED WORKING.  So they had to get another one (all this time Lizzie is still screaming) and finally they got it to work.

Only I was allowed to touch and hold her until I suggested that Eli might not hurt her arm if he took a turn.

 After the X-ray, we went back up to the Emergency Room and waited for about twenty minutes for the doctor to come tell us that they couldn't treat her break at Muscat Private, and he would refer her to Khoula.  This was the best thing that could have happened, but of course we didn't know that and spent the drive to Khoula debating whether we should drive to Dubai.  Lizzie had endured enough at that point and was sleeping.

We went to Khoula and when we arrived were very uncertain about the decision.  Most places we go in Oman feel very expat oriented -- the signs, for example, are in English -- but this hospital was not that way.  At the entry, there were separate waiting rooms for men and women and as far as we could tell, only Omani people.  But then, Lizzie and I were shown into the trauma unit (Eli was parking the car) and I leaned over to her and whispered "Lizzie!  It's a proper hospital!  I'm so relieved!"  Then Eli came in and said, "It feels very proper in here doesn't it?"  We had three doctors and two nurses with us almost immediately.  They gave Lizzie the sling you see in the photo below -- which actually helped her feel better -- and then told us we had to get X-rays done there.

I'm sure you can imagine her reaction, particularly given her dramatic tendencies.

But you know what?  This time the X-rays were fine.  The technician knew exactly how to position her and they were done in a second and we went back to the ER, where Lizzie experienced the joy of having an IV put into her hand.  I won't say she was perfect while it was inserted but she was close.  (I could tell the nurse was really nervous which probably didn't help Lizzie, but if it helped the nurse get it right on the first try then I don't care.)

The next thing that happened is I called Dina (to discuss surgeons) from the foyer and all of a sudden I heard Lizzie screaming.  Through the very thick doors.  The doctors had chosen that moment to give her ketamine and position her arm.  This positioning was done by three men using a fair amount of strength.

A photo of the X-ray

After the ketamin

The ketamine made her feel very strange and the first thing she said to us was, "You look like aliens." Then she told us we had four eyes.  She also told us her arm was much more comfortable after the adjustment and the backslab soft cast, which was a relief.

After they positioned her arm, they moved us to the Pediatric Surgical Ward.  The PSW was not nearly as nice as the ER.  We were in a room with eight beds, and a television showing VERY loud cartoons in Arabic.  I asked if we could turn it off and the nurse handed me the remote, so that was nice.  It was 10pm and all the kids were awake and there was a family having a picnic in the hall (my friend who is a doctor said this makes sense as many families from the interior receive treatment here and have nowhere else to go while their kids are treated).  Anyway, it was nuts and it felt pretty disorienting. Almost immediately, the nurses started prepping Lizzie for surgery which involved removing her fingernail and toenail polish -- and of course that really upset her.

Eli went home to get Tommy sorted out (he was spending the night with a friend but needed clothes and his backpack for the morning) and to bring things back for us, and so when we left for surgery he wasn't there.  They positioned Lizzie so that I could talk to her until they were ready to take her back and we had the following conversation:

Me:  "Okay, so when you're feeling scared, what are you going to think about?  What's the happy thing you're going to think about? The Lake? Laramie? Seattle?  What's the happiest thing in your life?"

And without a pause, she said, "you."

So that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me, for sure.

With daddy

Ready for surgery!

After she went into surgery, Eli arrived.  So did some friends (Jesal and Mithu) who were at dinner and saw my messages on their way home.  They waited the whole time -- nearly two hours -- and kept us distracted and entertained.  It was so amazing of them.  They also were very reassuring about the hospital.  And the next morning she had someone review all the X-rays and call me and rave about the result of the surgery.

What did I learn? When your friends have a kid in the hospital, you should go see them.  Dina and Greg showed up between seeing patients of their own; Ericka brought lunch for Eli and me.  Everyone brought gifts for Lizzie.  It was amazing.  We were totally loved and supported.

ANYWAY, after surgery she slept from about 2:30 until 5:30 when she woke up in pain.  We spent the day in the ward, seeing doctors and taking pain medication and having friends visit us, and then we were discharged around 6:30pm.  YAY!

She is home now and doing really well, as long as the television is on.  If I turn it off, she complains about her arm hurting...

After surgery

First time out of bed

Another first:  I parked like an Omani!  So proud.