Always the Nursemaid. . .

A few days ago Atticus was being swung by his arms and suddenly cried out in pain. He said his arm hurt so we did what any nurturing parent would do and bought him ice cream. After an afternoon nap he still winced in pain anytime the arm was touched and his body language led me to believe that his shoulder may have become dislocated.
A relatively quick trip to the emergency room introduced me to a very common and easily corrected injury called Nursemaid Elbow. We spent two hours in the waiting room and two minutes with the doctor. She quickly performed a ‘reduction’ and amazingly Atticus was all better. He then spent an extra five minutes hamming it up and flirting with the nurses that had gathered around his cuteness (that’s my boy!).

Yesterday, shortly after he pulled his toy phone out of his pocket and called everyone he knew while waiting for Tricia to shop in Santa Monica, it happened again. He was trying to climb on me and when I saw a hand flying fast towards an area sensitive to aggression I grabbed his wrist and swooped him up. Tears and stares followed. Immediately I sat him down and assessed that he was indeed suffering the same injury (they warned he might- they grow out of it) and I performed the reduction that I had watched the doctor do. Ta-da! He was fine and my conscience clean. Passer-bys went back to being their weird and indifferent selves (3rd Street Promenade= freakshow).

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