The night before last, while frantically trying to fix a late dinner for three unruly children, my Tiny decided to get into the pots and pans. I generally approve of this idea because A) it keeps her entertained and B) it keeps her out of my way. This time however, she decided to pull out the large skillet, (and seeing as how it weighs nearly half as much as she does), she dropped it on her foot. At first, I thought the loud noise just startled her...and then I noticed "the cry" (you know the one...the-I-can't-breath-because-I'm-screaming-so-hard cry)...so I picked her up...and that's when I noticed the blood, the swelling, and the purple color under her big toenail.
*for those of you who don't know me, I'm a huge hypochondriac, especially when it comes to my children. I automatically think the worst, and I like to play on the "safe side." I can't stand the thought of neglecting an injured or sick child that truly needed medical attention...I've already lost my mother of the year award, I can't afford to push my luck.
So I did what any normal girl would do. I called my dad (aka the family E.R. doc). He said that due to the amount of cartilage still present in a baby's foot, it probably wasn't broken. I should just give her some Motrin, and she should be fine. Well...about an hour after putting her to bed, she started screaming. When I went into her room, she was holding her foot in the air and wailing like I've never heard before. I felt so bad! (And due to my over-compulsive tendencies to rush to the doctor at the first sign of a homeostatic upset...I did just that.) I rushed her to the doctor.
And then after an hour of holding a screaming, thrashing, crying, tired, and pissed-off one year old, (and of course wishing that I had simply listened to my father in the first place), it was determined that she indeed had a slight fracture, but there wasn't much they could do. At some point, she may need to have her toenail drilled to relieve the pressure. But for now, I'm just supposed to give her some Motrin, and she should be fine. (Gee...where did I hear that before??)
Poor baby! Now she walks on the side of her right foot, she pushes her Tigger-on-wheels with one foot, and she whimpers any time we have to put shoes or socks on her feet.
*And yes, Dad, I did expose her to unecessary radiation, I did indeed waste my $25 co-pay, I did not learn anything new (except that Tiny does NOT like the oximeter being placed on her foot), and we did lose nearly three hours of decent sleep...all because I am an overprotective, overcompulsive, self-absorbed and can't-listen-to-a-damn-thing-I'm-told hypochondriac, but I can't help it...I was born this way!