April 15, 2005: A First That Could Have Waited

A toddler's life is full of firsts, most of which are celebrated and happily reported to anyone that will listen. On the other hand, there are some that you don't want to talk about at all. I am speaking of Monday night, Veronika's first trip to the emergency room. Mama was at work so I was on the job, responsible for dinner and bath time after picking her up from the babysitter. Veronika was banging around in the kitchen so I snuck upstairs to change before dinner. After a few minutes I noticed that she wasn't talking to herself anymore so I went to check on her. She was on her way up the stairs, so I went down and offered to help her the rest of the way up or at least stand behind her so she wouldn't fall. She didn't like that. I carried her up the stairs so I could finish changing. She hated that. I took her back downstairs and ran back up to put some clothes on. A few moments later, I heard a "bump-bump-thud" and then some serious crying. Veronika had fallen down some stairs (sadly, not a first).

How many steps? I didn't know. By the sound of it, it couldn't have been that many. What part of her was hurt? I didn't know and she couldn't tell me. Eventually I calmed her down and starting investigating for injuries: bending knees, flapping arms, pressing ribs and spots on her head. I couldn't get her to react to anything or even wince, so I breathed a sigh of relief and set her down. She started crying--normal after separation after a traumatic event--but then took a couple of steps and fell down. We went through the same routine again but when I put her down for the second time, I noticed that she seemed reluctant to put weight on her right leg. As painful as it was to see, I had to perform the experiment a third time to make sure my diagnosis was correct. Yep, the right leg definitely buckled.

I called the pediatrician, who said we should go to the ER. It was already near Veronika's bedtime but she was in good spirits when off her feet so I packed her up and drove to the hospital. How long could it possibly take? Three hours, that's how long! Mama met us in the waiting room, where we spent most of our time watching movies on Lifetime with the other patients, mostly kids nursing soccer or baseball injuries. At almost 10 p.m., we got called in for the x-ray, which consisted of one parent on each end trying to hold her down as she wailed and thrashed. I couldn't blame her though, it had been a tough night.

The x-rays came back negative and by the next morning, she was walking with only the occasional limp (long gone by now). I will not bore you with the details of my emotional journey from that night but I will say that it was hard for all of us. It was a little excitement that we could've done without.