We started spring break at the passport office and ended it at the orthopedist’s office.
No new injuries this time, we were there to get Anna’s cast taken off.(Or as Tom’s dad said, “They peeled Anna Banana!”)
Thankfully, her fracture has completely healed and we’ve moved on to the “remember when Anna had a cast?” phase of the story.
A friend warned me that getting the cast off might be a bit…um…traumatic. She told me so that I would be prepared, so that I would show up to the appointment with a strong resolve and perhaps a comfort item. (WHICH I FORGOT!)
As predicted, Anna responded exactly how you’d assume your baby would respond to a person walking toward them with a saw.
She screamed and cried and shrieked, and when it was all over she whimpered and gave the nurse a dirty look.
Then she stood up in my lap and hugged me for at least three solid minutes. She calmed down just in time to for x-rays. Then she screamed at everyone there, too.
Anna kept her arm bent at the elbow for most of the rest of the day. Our doctor assured me that the bone was completely healed, so she could get back to her normal activities — hot yoga and a light yard work.
I told the doctor that Anna never stopped her normal activities, and we were actually planning to ask him to put both of her arms in casts. Maybe her legs, too? And perhaps a helmet? Because this girl is only happy when she’s precarious. Teetering. On the edge.
All day after her appointment, Anna was just a bit fussy. She took a bad nap and just seemed a bit off — not her normal, happy self. She kept pointing at her arm and showing it to me. How confusing this whole thing must be for a baby.
My dad was holding Anna and when she started fussing I kissed her on the forehead and said, “Anna! Why are you so grumpy today?”
My dad responded. “I might cry like that too if I had one tan arm and one white arm.”