"This is the Worse Summer Ever..."

I really hope the saying "bad things come in threes" holds true. Ethan broke his right arm on May 14th. It broke in two place, but healed well, but a little slower than he or I would like. During the second week of June, Ethan got bit by a cat, which ended up being an infected cat bite so he needed a shot of antibiotics and oral antibiotics for 10 days. Last Saturday Ethan went to the park with Scott and Noah. He rode his scooter since he's scared of "falling and breaking bones" which ended up being ironic. They were there for about a half hour and my phone rang with Scott's ring tone. I thought to myself, "Ethan probably broke something" then quickly smiled because I knew THAT couldn't be true, lightning doesn't strike twice. I answered the phone, and hear Ethan screaming in the background and Scott saying "Ethan broke his arm again." This time these are the thoughts that race through my head, "I KNEW it wasn't healed right the first time", "Does he have brittle bone disease?" "Now Social Services will be knocking on my door." "Good Lord it's going to come to a point where Meritcare won't have to ask me his birthday, they'll all have it memorized!" and finally, "I don't need anything, just my keys, oh and purse, and shoes..." I race to the park, scoop him up and put him in the car. His elbow of his left arm was in the crook of his arm and his bicep was turned at a 45 degree angle. Nothing sickens you like looking at your child's misshapen, once perfect, bone. I've seen broken bones on other people before (including myself), but only looking at Ethan's make me literally want to throw up. Turns out he was on the monkey bars and went for the next wrung, missed and fell on his elbow. The whole way to the hospital he was screaming. The last time he hardly cried. He kept saying "This is the worst summer ever!!" and "That was my favorite arm!!" When we walked into the emergency room, he was ushered right back because he was screaming. He should have tried that last time he broke his arm. Within 15 minutes of arriving, he had a dose of Morphine. Last time we were there two and a half hours before he got a tylonal. By the time he went back to X-Ray, his arm was swollen up as big as a grapefruit. On his way to X-Ray, I asked him who he wants to come with. He said "Well you did last month, so you can again, or give dad a turn." The X-Ray people looked at me weird and I thought, "yeah... your kid probably shouldn't have to say those words." As it turned out, he broke the upper bone where it connects with the elbow and the elbow was shifted away from the forearm bones and was in the crook of his arm. He ended up having surgery to put the elbow back, and put three pins to connect his top bone and forearm bones back to the elbow. The surgery went well. I was too scared to even think about it and cry. I hated the idea of him being put under. He'll have surgery again in nine weeks to remove the pins. When he came out of recovery we asked him who should stay with him overnight at the hospital, and Noah said he wanted to take care of him. It's weird the whole time Ethan was going in and out of morphine/pain fit full sleep, he would wake up and ask in a demanding tone, "Where's Noah?!" or he'd take a deep breath and say in a matter of fact, "I wanna go home!" I really can't say enough good things about Meritcare's children's hospital. During the past few months, I've wondered if I should switch to Inovis because of all the waiting at Meritcare, but the surgeon and Children's hospital proved to me that we can't switch. Ethan's doctor is a pediatric orthopedic surgeon. How much more specialized can we get? I completely and fully trust him. Ethan's still in a lot of pain, but it's better than yesterday. This week he has a splint because of the swelling, next week he gets a cast and that will stay on for three weeks, then he gets it off for physical therapy. I slept with him last night and he woke up crying in pain at 2:00. I took him to the bathroom (something he can't do alone anymore), gave him more medicine and got him settled. He was still crying when I climbed in on the other side and he said, "all I want for Christmas is no broken bones. I won't ask for anything else." All I want for Christmas is the ability to instantly heal his broken bone, and be able to promise he won't have anymore bad luck.