NURSEMAID'S ELBOW

On a cold and dreary afternoon in January, Naomi's arm got hurt. She had nursemaid's elbow (partial dislocation of the elbow, for those who have never heard of it). She ended up going to the ER the next morning, but her arm stopped hurting somewhere between our home and the hospital. I've heard several moms say that their child's elbow popped back into place while getting into the carseat on the way to get medical care. Maybe that happened to Naomi. We'll never know. Anyway, we forked out a couple hundred bucks to the ER for a problem that had resolved itself by the time the patient arrived. Bummer.

On a warm and sunny evening in April, Sunday night to be exact, I was shopping with Naomi. She was holding my hand as we stood in line and calmly turned to look at a display of goldfish crackers. Suddenly she started wailing. Please keep in mind that our kids don't throw fits in stores. Ever. And also keep in mind that nothing dangerous, careless, or otherwise dramatic, had happened. We were just standing there.

I tried to comfort her and see what was wrong, but she was not calming down. Once she could speak intelligibly through her tears, I was able to understand that her arm hurt. I immediately knew she had nursemaid's elbow and figured it had happened when she turned to look at the display. Stinkin' goldfish.

She finally stopped crying and we went home. Remembering the last round of nursemaid's elbow, I decided to give her some Tylenol and send her to bed. I was hoping she'd just pop her elbow back into place while moving in her sleep. No such luck.

She was still keeping the arm immobile, though she was otherwise her normal, chipper self, when she woke on Monday morning. So, I called the doc's office and explained the situation to the receptionist. The nurse called me back, confirmed my diagnosis and told me just to come on in.

Now, I've read instructions online for putting the elbow back in place and I've had a gazillion people tell me that they've done it or had it done to them. It's a simple procedure, but I was afraid I'd make the situation worse.

So, the doc came in the room and I asked him to show me how to fix it. Evidently Naomi has wimpy elbows and I really don't want to have to go to the ER or doc's office when she does this again. At the same time, I wanted a supervised attempt at fixing it myself. I told him that if I tried it there and messed it up, then he could fix it. Plus, I wanted a professional witness, just in case I made matters worse, that I was trying to help Naomi, not abuse her. Got to cover my bases!

Anyway, he "fixed" Naomi's healthy arm to show me how it's done, then let me do the injured one. Oh my. So easy! Any five year old could do it.

Let me pause for a moment to solicit some compliments. You see, medical problems that involve intact skin, but body parts that aren't where they should be or that feel wrong, majorly gross me out. Dislocations, lumps, torn Achilles tendons that have retracted up a leg (yeah, that happened to Tim when Silas was a baby), etc ... those are not my department. I told Tim early in our marriage that I'd be all over it if our kids had "blood and guts" injuries, but that he was responsible for caring for any "neat and tidy, but not in the right place" situations.

Needless to say, holding onto Naomi's elbow as I felt the clicking of body parts returning to their proper place made my stomach turn a little. But I did it. And it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. And now I'll know how to fix it in the middle of Rite Aid, if it were to happen there again.

Anyway, back to the doc's office. As he was leaving the room, the doc told me that I'm the first parent he's ever taught to fix the problem. He said no one had ever asked to be taught. Imagine that. The "wimpy about dislocations" mom is the first of his patients to want to handle the dislocated area. I think I deserve an award.