Nursemaid's elbow

This morning we were all getting ready for work, as usual, when Bee dislocated her elbow.  Bee was seated on the floor and she stretched her arms up toward David to be picked up. He reached down and picked her up by her arms (something neither of us generally do but every parent has done once in a while) when Bee's elbow goes "POP!" and she starts to cry.  

At first I thought okay, she has strained her arm a little bit and she'll be okay in a minute, this is typical toddler drama.  Ten minutes go by and Bee is still crying every time she moves her arm and I am thinking it's broken and using every ounce of self control not to freak out and start screaming at David.  I tell him to call our pediatrician. He immediately calls and explains what happened. Our pediatrician says, "This is nursemaid's elbow, I know what to do, I'll be right over."  

Let me just say that we are so lucky to have an American pediatrician, also living in Eastern Europe, who is our neighbor within walking distance. It is a blessing beyond belief.  Bee was calmer and in less pain, but every time she sees David she points at him with her good arm and says, in tones laced with venom, "Daddy did it."

I pull Bee into my lap and we read stories, endless board books, while we wait.  She is distracted, but David is even more distracted because when he placed the call on his Crackberry he saw an email congratulating him on his promotion.   The long awaited promotion lists for our jobs had been released. We were soothing Bee and trying to surreptitiously confirm that he, and I, had been promoted.  The nervous excitement was really too much.  

After about 20 minutes, the pediatrician arrives. I create a distraction while she firmly grips Bee's arm and with a twist and an audible "pop," her elbow slides back into place.  A nursemaid's elbow is a partial dislocation where a tendon slides over the bone. It is not as serious as an entire dislocation.  Amazingly, within minutes Bee was using her arm and no longer in pain.  

My stomach still twists when I think about this morning.  The evening was not much better. David was at a reception, so I came home alone.  I went out walking with Max and Bee in the stroller when a little boy about her age runs over and pokes Bee in the eye. Completely unprovoked.  Bee started screaming, less in pain but more in pure outrage. By the time we had got back to the apartment, her mood had moved beyond arsenic hour blackness into a poison all its own. 

There is a short flight of steps leading up to the door of my apartment. In order to get everyone inside, I have to take Bee out of the stroller, bring her and Max to the top of the steps and then go down and bring up the stroller. She was having none of it.  Screaming and doing the "worm" (going limp and refusing to move). 

I finally got everyone up and into the apartment. Bee was screaming at the top of her lungs, slung over my shoulder like an accident victim.  Max was not enjoying the noise and was refusing to follow me inside. I could actually see his Labrador brain calculating if he should make a break for it and go find a quieter family, preferably one with no family members under the age of 5.  I got everyone in, managed dinner, bath time (although the water was brown tonight) and bed time.  Since we all have colds no one will sleep well tonight. 

For now, though, it is quiet. David is home. I have a glass of pink champagne.  And yes, I got promoted.