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This is the first in a series of posts about the time Mini broke her arm a few years ago. This post was originally posted to my personal blog in June, 2008. That month and that year were particularly rough for Mini and we’ll discuss how we tackled that in coming posts.
It was a normal Tuesday morning. Mini (as seen right) was at Equine Country, USA for “Horse Camp.” Her mother was at home. I was at work. The morning? It didn’t stay normal for very long.
Superphone had been out of commission because I forgot to plug it into the charger last night. I received a text message saying “come to er” from Mini’s mother and saw that there was a recorded voice-mail on the Superphone. Seeing such a message, I immediately called Mini’s mother and found out that she had fallen from a horse and may have broken her arm.
Rush to Onslow Memorial Hospital I did.
There she was. My little Mini. Face streaked with tears, eyes and cheeks red and her little right arm bulging in places that little right arms shouldn’t.
We were taken to the X-Ray department and had to watch while the technicians did their best to get good films without having to contort the broken arm too much.
Almost immediately after being put in a treatment room an emergency room doctor came in, checked Mini’s arm and pulled me outside to the hallway. I’m not exactly certain what the doctor actually said, I can’t remember. I remember looking at her, remember her talking, can even hear her voice in my mind. Repeat what she said? Not. One. Word. I understood the gist, though. It was bad. Off she went to find an orthopedist.
The orthopedist came in and looked at Mini’s poor broken little arm. He tested her fingers, pushed at the pads to check for circulation and asked her to wiggle them.
He then said that she would need a splint, for the transport to UNC-Chapel Hill. He wrapped her arm in a soft white fluffy layer of cushion, then applied the wet-plaster splint and an Ace bandage for protection and compression.
She was put into an ambulance, alone (non-patients aren’t allowed to travel in the ambulance) for the ride to Chapel Hill. Her mother and I followed shortly behind.
She was admitted to the emergency room and interviewed by several smart-looking if not efficient doctors. A new set of X-rays were ordered to determine if she could wait for surgery tomorrow or if it needed to be done tonight. We were taken to a room, allowed to feed her (she hadn’t eaten all day) as surgery will be tomorrow morning at 8am-ish.
She’s asleep. Her mother is asleep. And I’m here, scared out of my mind because my Mini, My. Mini., was hurt, is hurt, and I can’t make it better. I’m scared out of my mind because she’s going into surgery in a few hours. My Mini is going into surgery. I’m neither prepared nor equipped for that.
I am, though, scared out of my mind. I am scared beyond anything I have ever been before.
Tags: Broken Arm, Health Emergencies, Mini's Broken Arm, onslow memorial hospital, Thomas Brock, UNC-Chapel Hill
