It was bound to happen sometime. It turns out that sometime was yesterday morning.
Maddie, Riley, and I were fully immersed in the morning rush. I was showered and dressed, Maddie was half-dressed and still with crazy bedhead, and Riley was bumbling around in his usual Riley fashion, clad in usual Riley garb of a frilly pink Curious George nightgown. I coaxed Riley over for a diaper change. As I was leaning in to fasten the new diaper's tabs, Riley rolled over to grab a book that was just out of his reach. In doing so, he rolled over an array of Lego-type building toys, hitting one at just the wrong angle with his elbow.
He became hysterical. "MY ARM!" he wailed. "MY ELBOW!" he sobbed. I hugged and consoled. I kissed. He and I agreed that elbows require lots of kisses, so I kissed some more. He did not calm down at all. As many of you know, Riley is somewhat prone to dramatics, and it's always hard for me to tell when he's playing things up or when they are legitimate. When he was still quite worked up ten minutes in, I started to get annoyed. Yeah, sure, it's not at all funny to mangle the funny bone, but how much damage can a Lego do? (Please note the famous last words.)
Another ten minutes later, Riley was still seriously worked up and I was starting to get annoyed that he couldn't just move on, angry at myself for not being able to console him, frustrated that our morning plans were totally derailed, and worried that something might actually really be wrong. After throwing a bit of a fit myself, I finally offered Riley two choices: let me change him into his shorts and T-shirt, or go to Urgent Care to find out what was wrong with his arm.
My doctor-fearing drama queen chose Urgent Care. You could have knocked me over with a feather.
By this time, the nanny had arrived, so Maddie stayed home to play with Iryna while I lugged nightgown-clad Riley to Urgent Care. As luck would have it, we live only about a mile from one of our health-care provider's main facilities, the office from which I'd planned to choose Maddie and Riley's pediatrician. The triage nurse at Urgent Care booked us an appoitnment with one of the pedis who had an opening, and we walked right into that. It was all very efficient, the model of how HMO medicine should work. Lucky us.
Diagnosis? Dislocated radius. The doc adjusted it, gave Riley some ibuprofen, and sent us on our way with his pager number noted on a card should Riley still be favoring the arm later in the day (more foreshadowing).
When I got home, Iryna told me that Riley had been OK but leery of using the arm or having it touched. So I called the doc. Back to the office we went, this time for x-rays. Once again, it was all very efficient; we got the x-rays right away, no wait (the kids thought the x-ray experience was really cool), and we hand-carried them up to the doc for him to examine. Diagnosis this time? Nada. X-rays were clear. But, just to be safe, the doc called down to the cast room and had us stop by there for a splint and sling, which Riley will wear until Sunday.
All in all, it was about the best Urgent Care experience one could imagine. And it was great to have a trial run on a pediatrician; choosing a primary care doc from a long list of candidates with no real information is always dautning, and we had such a good experience with this doctor that I designated him as the twins' primary physician on the spot. Not only was he kind and gentle and thorough with Riley, but (a) he as twins of his own and (b) his wife died when his older kids were fairly young, under 10. So he's been there, done that on this widowed-single-parent thing. Of all the pediatricians in the Portland area, it's a nice coincidence that he's the one was saw yestearday.
Riley: Walking Wounded Edition