Little Miss E.R.

Nope...as you've probably guessed, this is not the post I was supposed to write about our adoption story.  Instead it's about our first family adventure at the E.R.  We spent a lovely evening there yesterday.

The story starts around 5:00pm.  We had just squeezed in a 4:50 run to the notary and the Post Office, and Emma and I were dropping Jeremy back at his office.  Jeremy and I both had our arms full as we headed up the stairs into the church, so one of us (I won't say which one and make the sad and guilty parent feel even sadder and guiltier) lifted Emma up by her left arm to help her up the stairs.  Ummm...not a good plan.  Emma immediately started crying and holding her arm.

After determining that she was not going to calm down and Milo & Otis couldn't even distract her from the pain in her arm, we decided to take her to the doctor.  Brilliant me thought that arriving at the After Hours Clinic at 5:50 when they don't open 'til 6:00 would get us a great spot in line.  Not so much.  I guess the good spots go a little earlier (like 3:45, maybe).

We waited in line until Little Miss Pink Eye, Mr. Mystery Rash, Mr. Double Ear Infection, and a few other not-so-happy people had headed back to see the one frazzled doctor.  Emma was a trooper.  She played the whole time with her left arm hanging by her side.  Daddy read a book, and I held my breath hoping that the toys Emma was playing with were not covered in Pink Eye or Mystery Rash germs.

Finally it was our turn.  We were taken back by a very nice nurse to see a not-so-nice doctor who reminded us about 32 times that it's not a good idea to pick our daughter up by her arm.  You think?  There was a funny side to this part of the visit.  Picture this not-so-nice doctor in your mind.  He's older and kind of gruff with a little bit of a mad scientist look, but his name sounds a whole lot like Barbie.  Emma kept asking, "Where's Barbie?  Where'd Barbie go?  What's Barbie doing?"  It was pretty funny.

Anyways...Dr. Barbie was able to put Em's arm right back in place but decided she needed x-rays and a sling and sent us across the highway to the E.R.  By this time, I was really starting to doubt my ability to continue to convince Jeremy and Emma that the bag of Goldfish I threw in my purse on our way out the door was really a perfectly acceptable dinner substitute, but off to the E.R. we went.

Thankfully, Emma thought the "giant camera" that took pictures of her arm was pretty cool.  (This from a girl who cries hysterically when asked to stand on the scale at the pediatrician's office.)  I think most of the E.R. staff was pretty bored, because Em got treated like a little celebrity.  She quickly collected two shiny princess stickers, a red bouncy ball, and a coloring book and crayons.

The sling was NOT a hit.  Someone in the E.R. (who asked to be kept anonymous) told us not to worry about making her wear it.  Since it would take an excessive amount of bribery to even get Miss Emma to put the sling on (yes, the pictures in this post are totally staged), I don't think we're going to worry about it.  (Shhh...don't tell Dr. Barbie!)

All in all, it was not such a bad trip to the hospital.  Everyone came out healthy, happy, and only slightly starving.