Warning!

This post contains graphic images of my son's broken arm. If you are squeamish, do not read any further.

I'm serious, quit now.

For those of you who are still here, my poor little guy went back to the ER today because he broke his arm. S and a friend were playing and jumping and the friend landed on S's arm - accidentally breaking it. Oops.

He was such a trooper. After it happened he just walked over to the sitter and said, "I think I broke my bone." She took one look at his arm, sat him down with an ice pack, called me and we all raced to the Medical Center. Surprisingly, he didn't cry. She said he didn't cry at all. Even when he saw me.

It didn't take an X-ray to tell he had a broken arm. Thank goodness it was just a "green stick" fracture so setting it wasn't very difficult. Even so, I still couldn't look at it right away. When I was finally able to look, this is what I saw:

He finally did cry, OK he screamed bloody murder, when he realized they were going to give him a "poke" - an IV so they could give him medication. Dr. Karen gave him morphine for the pain so she could set the bone and versed so he wouldn't remember having it set. The versed worked well. She gave him two injections of painkiller right into the break sites - neither of which he remembers. But he remembers that poke, but says his bent arm didn't hurt that much.

After the bones were set Dr. Karen splinted it. We have to go back on Monday to get the cast. I didn't realize that they don't cast broken bones right away due to the swelling.

Poor little fella. After a walk home in Papa's basket, S ended up having a wonderful afternoon at home - watching all the TV he wanted. (A rare treat at our place.)

Given that my son has more accident slips at preschool than all the other kids do - combined, somehow I think we'll end up at the ER again someday. However, I am keeping my fingers crossed that we don't see it again soon!