Hallie's mini-emergency

Hallie was holding her Daddy's hand and turned to run away, but failed to let go.  It was as simple as that and we had a wailing girl with a "nurse maid's elbow."  Chris and I looked at the diagram online.  We knew it was an easy fix but there is something about your child screaming in terror and pain that makes you leery of trying to manipulate her joints (at least for us).  So, I made Chris stay home with Claire as I took her to the urgent care.  Even with her arm placed on a pillow, the poor girl whimpered with every lane change.  I tried to soothe her with primary songs and pep talks on the way.  It's special when the full measure of the nurturer mother kicks in.

When we arrived, I placed her in a wheel chair and we rode the elevator to the second floor and down the hall.  The office staff called her "Haylie" (what's new- thank goodness I love that name too).  When Hallie was sobbing I told her "You need to take a deep breath, honey."  The staff reproved me and said "Let her cry.  You would cry too."  Good point.  So she cried.

Doesn't it just break your heart?

While we waited in the waiting room I was struck by how old she was.  This isn't a stroller.  This is a full-sized adult wheel chair.  They brought her apple juice in a can with a straw.  She thought that was totally cool.

She was so brave.  She finally stopped crying for a spell.  We talked and she asked me "Are you still proud of me even when I am brave and need to cry?"  I told her yes and she looked at me and said "Okay, I think I am going to cry now." And the tears poured out again.  It was so tender. Here she was -- so big and yet so small. 

Some time before the doctor came in, I readjusted her pillow and her elbow popped back in place.  The doctor showed me how to put the elbow back in place and I nodded my head knowing full well I would be too scared to do it myself if it happened again.  There are reasons why I didn't go to nursing school. 

Then they gave Hallie a coloring picture with a princess and unicorn stickers.  She was smitten.  I kept that picture for about two weeks.  Then I quietly threw it away.  Big mistake.   Hallie frequently talks with excitement about the next time she gets hurt she can go to the "special" doctor's office where she can get another unicorn princess picture.  She even came up to me this morning and said her finger hurt and it "really was an emergency."

I don't relish seeing her in pain but I can't keep from admitting that (pain aside, of course) I really cherish that night with her.