Concerning raising kids and the dangers/accidents/chaos that comes with them, I've often felt and said that "life is a bunch of near misses." Well, since the events of this past Wednesday evening, I've permanently changed my motto: "life is a bunch of near misses and the occasional hit." When Stinky Pete ran in from the backyard as I was chopping sweet potatoes and onions for that night's Santa Fe stew and frantically told me that something was "really wrong" with Li Li's arm, I was unprepared for the sinking feeling in my heart as I stepped out onto our deck and spotted Little Li standing on the tramp with his left arm dangling unnaturally.
We pray as a family every night, Jason and I pray together every morning, and the kids and I pray together every morning. In all these prayers, we ask for protection and safety and the Lord's guidance. While this didn't spare Li Li from breaking his arm, I know these prayers were answered in the moments that followed. Though the details of the next few minutes are a little bit of a blur (adrenaline took over my body and I was all action), I am absolutely certain that Heavenly Father was taking care of us. As calmly as I could, I fetched Liam from the tramp, sent a neighborhood friend home, told Chloe to call Jas and yelled up the stairs to Ed that I was taking Liam to the hospital and he was in charge. Within 3 minutes of his accident, I opened the garage door and began loading that sweet little boy into the car.
As the garage door opened, our neighbor from two houses down, and a member of our bishopric, was coming up the driveway. Dana had been tending his grill in his backyard, heard the crying and the distraught yells to "Get Mom!" and knew something bad had happened. I'm pretty sure he knew something was up before I did. On his way to our house, he called another ward member and neighbor who is an orthopedic surgeon and let Jim know that our family might be needing his expertise. The second I saw Dana, I knew he was a blessing from the Lord and a specific answer to a specific prayer I had yet to offer. I was so relieved. He saw Liam's broken arm, gave him a quick blessing in his carseat and then promised to take care of the rest of the gang for me. Later that night, I learned he made Top Ramen for my kids and then brought his teenage son over to hang out with the kids until we returned, and entertained them with dodge ball and games. What a good guy.
Liam made sure the eventful night was even more noteworthy with his feisty attitude and cute quips. On the way to the hospital he exclaimed more than once in full drama, "I don't want to die!" I assured him with loving words, but he then yelled out in a whimpering complaint, "God doesn't like me." I told him God loved him and was not punishing him, that it was just an accident and that we would get better at the hospital. When the nurses inserted the IV, he cried out, "they're killing me" and "they're taking my blood out of me!" in a really melodramatic and endearing way. Poor guy. He was trying to make sense of it all. "They stabbed me with a noodle!" he told Jas when he arrived shortly after us. The morphine from the IV made his face itch, and he was making me laugh with his frustration at me as I tried to scratch the itchy parts but just wasn't doing it the right way (he wasn't using his left arm for obvious reasons and he didn't dare move his right arm because I think the IV scared him). The actual resetting and casting were tumultuous experiences, complete with Liam kicking one of the nurses and trying a few more times in vain. "They wouldn't let me get up when I wanted to," he remembered later.
Morphine helped him relax a little before the resetting
Maybe a little graphic, but an up close shot before the "procedure"
It was wonderful to have Jim, our friend and a worthy man, taking care of our little guy. Jim said the double breaks were about as favorable as they could be--a clean fracture of the ulna and a greenstick fracture of the radius. The "reduction" was over in a breeze and the cast (from shoulder to hand) was on not much longer after that. We knew Liam made it out of the sedation just fine when the nurse asked him if we wanted a popsicle and he asked if he could have two. Soon after, we were on our way home from the hospital with a stuffed bunny (that he later named Hot Sauce) in tow.
With some of the monitors and gadgets attached just before sedation
Post-procedure, learning to handle a popsicle with one hand
Even after going through the wringer, Li Li's spirit shines through
Sweet boy
A kiss from his daddy
Sitting up for the first time after the "reduction"
The sweetest moment of the whole night came after we arrived home. Stinky Pete was sick to her stomach with worry and sorrow and guilt. She and her friend had "launched" Li Li at the same time on the tramp (possibly with a little mischievousness because she hadn't wanted him on the tramp with her) and when he landed, he broke his arm. So while Jas and I were busy getting Ed and SoSo and the dog ready for bed, Chloe was crying and hanging out with Liam on our bed. When I went back to check on them, she told me with a cracking voice about a conversation they had: "I told Liam I was sorry, Mom. And, do you know what he said? He said he was not mad at me and that he wanted me to be happy." I smiled and looked at Liam and told him that I loved him and that it was so good of him to tell her that. Then he looked at me and asked, "Does God like me now, Mom?" I told him God loved him more than he knew and choked up myself.
At some point the next morning, he yelled out to me in the kitchen, "I love you, Mom!" I replied, "I love you, too, Liam." I added for good measure, "God loves you, too." In his very cute 4-year-old "duh" attitude, he replied, "I know that alread-ee."
