Broken foot.

Vince fell down the stairs last night while reading his phone at 9:45 pm.  He came into our room crying that his foot hurt.  The thought of going to the ER at 9:45 pm for a slightly sprained foot made me exasperated.  I was already in my PJs thinking of my head against my soft pillow.  And even though I think of myself as a compassionate person, I also am kind of a suck-it-up kind of mother.  So I gave Vince an ice pack and Motrin and sent him to bed.

This morning, I was gone early and wasn’t back until after school let out and Vince’s foot still wasn’t feeling good.  I found an after-hours ortho office that was open.  He brought math homework that was freaking him out to do in the waiting room.  It was basically a whole afternoon freakout about math/foot/testing anxiety.   It didn’t help that I was sure that the foot wasn’t broken and that it was all in his head and Vince could tell that I was impatient.

Anyways, the joint is very point tender and they couldn’t quite tell if there was a fracture on the film.  If there is a fracture, it’s right on the growth plate of the fifth metatarsal and so we got the conservative treatment.  We got a two week stay in a boot for our trouble.  And I think he understands his math.  Gah, now I feel badly.  A little mothering guilt.  Anyways, if we had gone to the ER last night, we would have had to go to the ortho today anyways.  So…win?

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