The View From The Other Side (Sort Of)

About a week ago, we awoke at 4:30am to some real cries from T's room. I opened his door to find him standing on the other side, sobbing. "I fall out of bed, Mama." Points to his shoulder as the boo-boo site. I gave him some ice (rejected) and Motrin (accepted - mmm, berry) and we let him finish the night in our bed. I had tried to find a sore spot in the shoulder or arm but wasn't successful. Range of motion seemed to be okay. So we decided nothing was broken, maybe just bruised, and carried on with our lives.

Since then, though, he hasn't been quite right. He cries if we pick him up under the arms and when we tighten the straps in his car seat. "I no want you to hurt my shoulder, Mama." Heartbreaking. Usually a rightie, he has been passing a ball from right to left to throw it. He got a baseball tee for his birthday, but runs crying to Dad after a few swings. And at his birthday party other parents noticed that he was holding his right arm bent at the elbow by his side while running.

Time for an intervention. Yesterday I called my favorite orthopedics office. "Hello, this is Dr. K. May I speak to one of the surgeons about a pediatric patient?" I should point out that I do not usually do this for our own things - when I call our family doctor or the ENT who put in T's tubes, I always go through the secretary, and never say I'm Dr. K. But this is a big ortho office and I just wanted to talk to someone and see if I should be concerned.

Dr. G was on call - they put me through to his nurse. "I'll just get him out of a room." I tried to leave a message but she was already on her way to knock on the door. Dr. G on the phone - "It's about my son, he fell out of bed a week ago and he's holding his arm funny." "When can I see him? Can you bring him tomorrow?" Patches me back to the secretary who finds me a noon appt. I'm sure he's double/triple booked - but the thing about ortho and other surgical specialties is that most of the time they can just focus on the problem at hand. They don't have to spend 15 minutes getting a history like I do and the exam is usually pretty focused, too.

Armed with snacks, we spend 30 min or so in the waiting room. Baby W entertains the other patients. Good old T - usually he clams up around new people and especially at doctors' offices, but Dr. G is so kind and gentle. "Where's your boo-boo?" (shyly points to the top of his shoulder) "What happened?" (quietly) "I fell out of bed." Gentle hands touch the shoulder then move to the collar bone, T pulls away. "He might have fractured his clavicle." The lovely X-ray tech takes us back for some pictures. She has toddlers of her own and used to work at the big childrens' hospital in the city. Knows just how to get T to sit still for 3 shots of the shoulder and collarbone, then lets him take an X-ray of his matchbook car. The films come out - even I can see the fracture, right in the middle of the clavicle.

We are sent home with a special strap that goes over both collarbones and fastens in the back - T calls it his backpack - and a sling, which is quickly rejected since he just takes his arm out of it to suck his thumb anyway. Also the X-ray of the car, a bright blue squeeze ball (a birthday present from Dr. G), and a stack of business cards to replenish the supply at my office. We have a follow-up appointment in 3 weeks and instructions to avoid contact sports. Isn't being 3 a contact sport? But anyway no climbing on the playground structure, no slides, no tee-ball. :( Happily it should heal nicely and in 3 years even the bump at the fracture site will have remodeled away.

All this nice care, good staff, gentle and reassuring doctor, and they refused to take my copay. It's never easy to see your kid suffer - but I guess there are some perks to being a MommyDoc.