On Saturday we were at my parents’ just hanging out. I am often reminded of the differences between my children and this day was no different. They were chasing each other up and down the slide and ladder. When Ethan came up the slide so Emry could not go down, she turned to go down the ladder…and paused. One could almost see her calculating the jump: the height from the ground, her own height, the velocity of the wind, etc. She counted her cost, decided against any jump, threw down her two stuffed pandas and proceeded to turn around to go down the ladder. But noting that Ethan was now on the platform and off the slide, she scampered past him and slid down the slide. Ethan, meanwhile, did not think twice. Did not calculate anything. Did not count any cost. Did not even look before he leaped. He simply scampered to the end of the platform and jumped.
It was easy to see as he stumbled to the ground that he had landed wrong. And the cries soon followed to confirm that. But now enters the second difference between my kids. Emry will get hurt, cry, perhaps get angry, but then she’s over it and off to the next thing. Later she may tell “war stories” about the scratch, or bruise, or memory of getting hurt but she’s not going to cry over it again. Ethan, though? Well, he goes straight for the Academy Award. He can bring on tears at the drop of a hat. And sometimes it can be hard to tell how hurt he really is. Now even though I tend to brush off my kids’ getting hurt and tell them to get up and keep going, I did ask which foot hurt and squeezed around to see if he had any immediate reaction. He didn’t, so I figured it was a sprain and we would soon back to normal.
He didn’t nap at my parents’, although we tried. And he cried now and then that his foot hurt. When he tried to get out of the bed, he wouldn’t put weight on his left foot either. This continued, although he seemed in good spirits so I couldn’t ascertain if he was simply playing the martyr or was truly in pain. I thought, especially after Beto arrived and got a very cool late birthday present they took outside to play with that he would forget and dash after them. But he didn’t. He had one aunt or the other carrying him around or stayed put in his little chair. And, later, when he did forget and sprang from his chair, he immediately crumpled to the ground. By now even I thought we should go to the doctor and get an x-ray, just to be sure nothing was broken.
I am not one who rushes out to the doctor. I haven’t taken my kids in over two years since the pediatrician in Pittsburgh more-or-less terrified me away. But these days, who wants to deal with everything visiting a doctor is going to entail? So, I first called to see what protocol was. The lady at the hospital was very annoyed that I would bother her, but the urgent care lady was very friendly and assured me they weren’t busy at all. So, we left Emry with my parents and headed into town.
Ethan was in good spirits, not at all scared to be visiting a doctor. He observed the mask the lady at the desk wore and declared her to be a super hero. He gave his own account of how he had hurt his foot to the nurse. And, even though I handed him over to Ed for the actual x-ray, he apparently did quite well and got to see pictures of his foot. Thankfully, his foot was not broken – just badly sprained and wrapped up tight.
And in a couple of days, he should be just fine.
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