Hoedown!
I heard the thump from the kitchen where I was cleaning up from dinner.
“Sweetie? Everything OK?”
“MOOOOOOMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYY!”
*groan* I dried my hands and took a look. The child was sitting on the floor crying and holding her foot.
“It hurts, Mom!”
I took a look. No bleeding, no bone fragments sticking out, not even any redness.
“Well,” I asked, “what were you doing?”
“I…” *huff* *huff* *sniffle* “I…I… I wanted to do the thing that they did on ‘Good Luck Charlie’ [stupid Netflix TV show du jour] and so…” *sniffle* “…I jumped over the couch and hurt my fooooooooooot!”
“You jumped over the couch?”
I looked at the couch. It’s a big couch.
“OK,” I said. “Did you land on anything?”
“My fooooooot!!”
“Did you land on anything else, like the edge of the couch or the dog or something?”
She shook her head. “It hurts!”
*sigh* “Let’s get you off the floor.” I parked her on the couch with her iPod and an ice pack. The tears were gone in minutes.
“Will I have to go to school tomorrow?”
“I don’t know. Let’s see how you feel in the morning.”
Come morning, she still wasn’t walking well on the foot so I called the pediatrician. This, of course, started the Medical Professional Hoedown!
“Bow to your partner, start the dance!” (Call the school and tell them the child won’t be in. Haul her crippled little butt to the doctor’s office.)
“Allemande Left, Right Hand Turn! Right and Left Grand, Weave the Ring!” (It is at this point that we sit in a room full of sniffling, coughing, crying children until the child’s bladder inevitably fills to bursting. Then, as we go into the bathroom, I hear the nurse call her name out to come back and the question becomes “to pee or not to pee….”)
“Box the Gnat, Courtesy Turn! Right and Left Thru, Ladies Chain!” (The doctor looks at her for a total of 6.5 minutes and refers us to a nearby orthopedist.)
“Chow Down, Ladies, Do Sa Do!” (We stuff as much food from the fast-food Mexican restaurant down our throats as we can before the next appointment. We do this because we have no idea how long we’ll be stuck waiting for the orthopedist.)
“Back Track Left, Back Track Right, Do Sa Do and Circle to a Line!” (I sit in the orthopedist office, quietly belching up Mexican food and praying that the actors on the soap operas playing on the two TVs in the waiting room don’t do anything… ummm… awkward that I’ll have to explain to the child.)
“Veer Left then Right, Wheel and Deal! Ladies and Gents now Promenade!” (A glum ortho assistant shambles in and asks us some questions. He then tells us to wait for someone else to take us down to x-ray.)
“Tag the Line! Couple Trade!” (The hall down to x-ray is like half the length of a football field. Child limps pitifully the whole way.)
“Half Sashay and Pull Away! Ladies now let’s Allemande!” (The actual orthopedist comes in and tells us that there is nothing broken, just a tendon knocked out of whack. She’ll be fine in a couple of days. No treatment necessary.)
“Bow to Your Partner, Promenade!” (We go home to enjoy the heartburn while arguing about why the child can’t go to her friend’s house to play.)
So, basically, there’s no harm — and we got a printout of that cool x-ray to take home. It only cost, like, $800! (To the insurance company, not me.) The child will take it into school tomorrow.
Awesome.
