In the morning, we attempted to make an appointment with the orthopedist. It was only slightly harder than plotting world domination. I was on hold for 25 minutes and was making an appointment when Lala (who was working from home) picked up the phone to call work and disconnected me. I had to take a break and cry in the kitchen for awhile. There is only so much a sleep-deprived mother can take.
Calm, even-tempered Joe got us an appointment for 1pm.
Sam adamantly did NOT want to go to the doctor. “No doctor! No doctor!”. Poor kid. Good news, though: the xray department has awesome boy toys. We played with motorcycles, four wheelers and Optimus Prime. We took xrays like a pro without any crying. And then, the orthopedist told us Sam’s fracture needed reduced. That means snapped back into place. Ick.
They scheduled us for a 5pm procedure at hospital’s operating room. Sam had to start fasting from that point on. We decided to put him down for a much-needed nap until we woke him at 4:30 to head to the hospital.
We were juggling a cranky Sam into his sweatshirt when the phone rang. It was the hospital. The doctor had been delayed. They postponed Sam’s procedure till 6pm. Then 7pm. Then 8:30pm. Maybe you would just like to reschedule until tomorrow?
“NO! Absolutely not! Get my baby’s arm fixed! Shove that patient off the operating table right now and put my baby in his place. YOU tell Sam he can’t have any chocolate milk or graham crackers until 8:30pm.”
What I really said (with a forced smile on my face): “Well, my husband has to leave tomorrow and Sam is pretty uncomfortable. We’d like to go ahead and do it tonight.”
They called back and said they would move our case to the front of the line. The nurse anesthetist didn’t want a baby fasting for that long. Love that lady! We left for the hospital at 6pm.