The missus took my son to a follow-up visit with the orthopedist today. The new xrays showed that one of the two pins he put in friday night had slipped, and so he referred us to a pediatric orthopedist.
I had wondered if he should have done the surgery in the first place, and he had actually called around (or a secretary/nurse had) to see if a pediatric specialist was available, but none were that night so he had to go ahead. I guess that's normal - and he's certainly experienced, but you always wonder. In truth, when it comes to traumatic injury, I'd rather have a specialist who focuses on one kind of injury than all the generalists in the world. In fact, I'd rather have a bone-placing technician (theres is actually no such thing that I'm aware of) who just does that one kind of bone, than a generalist... but that's another story.
The new doctor said she's going to put in a third pin, and warned of a sligh risk of nerve damage - you know, the things they have to tell you but aren't terribly concerned about - but you need to know, just in case? Just enough to make us jittery - Moby's left-handed, and it's his left arm, and whenever I think about nerves, it makes me squeamish. This is probably the result of having worked with too many folks in wheelchairs, and knowing too many people with chronic pain.
So 5:30 am tomorrow (now today, I guess) he's got to be at Presby uptown where some of the kids were born, prepping for 7am surgery. They'll probably be back before the rest of us are out of bad- all of the others having learned to sleep in every day (bad habits we breed, aren't they?).
Tonight we watched War of the Worlds, and I finally got rid of our extra toilet by giving it to Hans to replace his. We saw the add-on to his house, and it's pretty impressive, considering he did it himself, and it added a whole floor to the house.
On the daddy front, I wouldn't let the eldest stay up unless it was to watch the movie with us. She ended up staying up in bed reading, even though when she asked to read, I said she couldn't. So I yelled a her - and am trying to figure out if there need to be further consequences. Maybe I'll get her to finish mowing the lawn. Should chores be punishments? OK, not the lawn... really, I just want her, if she wants to be treated like an adult, to begin to take adult responsibilities. More on that later, probably.
d.i.
