The First Family Fracture

So the streak ends at 10 years, 8 months, and 14 days. That's how long Sherry and I made it as parents before we had our first fracture.

Sam injured his left pinkie breaking his fall during a game of tag at the park. In the grand scheme of things, not that terrible of an injury. As you can tell from the photos below, his mood increased considerably as we waiting for the conclusion of treatment at the ER.

Just after taking a dose of Tylenol.

After the dose kicked in, and after seeing the X-Rays we were able to joke more about it. 

Sam was a trooper at the hospital. Didn't accept the offer for a shot that would numb the injury. Held in there during the setting of it. Polite with the staff. And we had the chance to make good conversation as we waited out our stay. We were there for three and a half hours.

Sam cried when the injury first occurred but didn't again until he saw the well wishes back at his uncle and aunt's home upon his return.

On a more somber note, this was my first trip that I can remember to an ER and I couldn't help but think about how sad of a place it can be. Sam and I had it easy. A fixable injury that was obviously the result of innocent play. Father with son. Father has insurance coverage. Kid has a good attitude about the situation. Pretty clean incident. But as we waited I couldn't help but overhear the difficult cases that came in: the hurts that aren't so fixable, the patients for whom the means isn't there, the woes that could have been combated more easily at an earlier stage. It's humbling.

By the way, no less than six medical professionals were involved in this one visit to the ER. Number seven (the orthopedist) will see Sam tomorrow when we figure out how to expedite the healing.