Medical Adventures

Tuesday morning found us waking up north of Green Bay at Joe's parents' house. We woke relatively early given the late night before and hit the road by 9 a.m. We were back in Milwaukee by 11:30 a.m. and Joe made short work of heading into the office. I had planned a relatively easy day knowing we'd all be tired; a few quick errands and an extended visit to the library, per Madeleine's request.

By noon there was a problem. Hank and Elisabeth had gone in the basement to wrestle and play. I heard lots of shrieks and giggles and went about the business of unpacking, checking messages and getting lunch ready. But then I heard a different kind of shriek. This one wasn't in good cheer and shortly after Elisabeth came upstairs with tears in her eyes and clutching her left wrist. I tried to touch it and to have her move it, but doing so only resulted in tears of pain from Elisabeth. Now, from a lot of three-year-olds this may not mean much. If Hank, for instance, was to cry like that I would assume he'd maybe stubbed his toe, but Elisabeth? She's one tough cookie and tears from her are always the real deal.

I called her doctor. He suggested giving her a Tylenol, putting ice on the wrist and reassessing around 2 p.m. So, that's what we did. At 2 p.m. she was still in just as much pain so off to the doctor we went. Her pediatrician assessed the wrist and gave us the unfortunate news that it needed to be x-rayed. Across town. Way, way across town. So we loaded into the van, drove through some of Milwaukee's less than choice neighborhoods (i.e. the ones that are always on the nightly news b/c of some shooting or another) and then proceeded to spend the next three hours waiting to have Elisabeth's wrist x-rayed.

By 5:30 we were on our way home when I received a call from Elisabeth's doctor. The x-rays were negative, thankfully; Elisabeth had just suffered a sprain. She is now the proud owner of a splint that she refuses to take off her wrist and functions pretty well despite having the use of only one hand.

Joe and I have taken to calling Elisabeth our hospital child. She has visited the emergency room or urgent care no less than three times. Madeleine has gone zero and Hank only once (and Caroline I'm not even going to count yet). I'm not saying it won't happen, but clearly Elisabeth has a greater proclivity for getting hurt.

The upshot of all of this? While sitting in the waiting room for three hours with all four kids it hit me: if I could get through that with four kids then I can get through anything with four kids. So that's good. I guess.

More Caroline

My four(!) crazy kiddos this past Monday, the day we left the hospital. This was a sad day; I'm one of those that loves the hospital and all those nice nurses and food brought in periodically and not being responsible for much of anything besides feeling better.



Plus we had a great view of Lake Michigan.



Caroline getting dressed to come home (the outfit is a premie size-- she's so tiny!).



These signs greeted us when we pulled in our driveway.



One from Madeleine...



one from Hank...



and one from Elisabeth.



Caroline is doing so well and we love having her home. I'm ridiculously exhausted, which is a whole other post in which I laugh at myself because I thought I remembered how tiring it was having a newborn, but I didn't remember. I really, really didn't. We're also being ridiculously spoiled by so many good friends; I'm sure I won't have to cook for a week or two and I am so, SO thankful to have the luxury of not having to worry about what is for supper every day and instead learning how to parent four (!!!) children.