Tuesday night, C-man hurt his hand while wrestling. I got there just before it happened, and he got up crying. I didn't interfere, because the coach was handling it. But he doesn't cry for little pains, so I knew it hurt. But in typical fashion, we went with the - you're probably okay, so let's ice it and see approach.
Fast forward two days and the finger is still a sausage and the knuckles black and blue. An x-ray confirmed he fractured his fourth finger, right above the growth plate. Which is good news, because it's a tiny fracture, and isn't impacting the growth plate. She is sending us to an orthopedist, though, because she wants to be extra careful.
The cutest part of all was that when the doctor asked if we had any questions, C-man had some. And they were all about whether he could pitch this weekend (he had a clinic), and if he could just tape it up for next weekend's wrestling tournament. I think the bad news is neither is going to happen. But we are going to let him hold out hope until a doctor tells us otherwise.
So there you have it. A childhood right of passage.
No comments:
Post a Comment