Monday afternoon I called my mom. Duncan was playing vet at the bottom of the stairs and Wip had gone upstairs. After Duncan talked to Grams, I took the phone upstairs so that she could say hello to Wip. I did not realize that Duncan had started making his way up the stairs. Wip was finishing up his conversation with Grams and I turned to check on D. I think when I turned, it startled him. I then got to witness one of the worst sights...a child tumbling down the stairs and landing on his head at the bottom of the concrete floor. I did what any parent would do, I called my mom again. She calmed me down and other than acting sore, he seemed fine.
The next morning, Patrick sent me the video above to let me know that he was fine. I must say...it made my day. Fast forward a few hours, the Temple called to let me know that he seemed to be in a lot of pain and that I should come and pick him up. I had already made an appointment at East Louisville, but now the question was go ahead and take him to the ER or wait for the appointment. I thought for sure that my "motherly instinct" would kick in when I picked him up, but it did not. I did what any parent would do that could not find their "motherly instinct", I took him to my mother in law for her opinion. She was with me, he seemed fine (was eating and moving his arm) and so I waited until the appointment.
When I got home, I knew I had made the right choice. He was happy, playing, and completely being himself.
Waiting for Dr. Belza to come in the room, I was completely convinced that he was going to tell me that he just bruised his shoulder area and he was completely fine. He started the analysis with two tongue depressors. He put one in his left hand (the good side) and then lifted the other one high in an effort for Duncan to raise his right arm up to grab it. Instead, Duncan put the tongue depressor that was in his left hand in his right hand and reached for the other one with his left arm. Smart kid, bad sign.
Off to Kosair we went. The x-ray proved what Dr. Belza thought which was a broken clavicle (or collarbone). There is nothing you can do for it, kinda like a broken toe. We are just supposed to resume normal life with just a little extra caution (and Tylenol).
Thanks to cookies from Auntie and a doctor for a brother, I think he is going to be just fine. Now if I could only get over the mom guilt that is consuming me!