Last week our younger daughter fractured her wrist playing basketball at school. She did it on Tuesday and on Wednesday I took her to our doctor, who suggested we go to the hospital for an x-ray. This we did and about five hours later we walked out with a new blue cast, fingers to elbow. Luckily it was a tiny break on the hand she doesn't write with and I did not take too long in getting her there. I did question her rather strongly to ensure that the trip to the doctor and hospital was necessary. No one wants to do the excruciatingly long wait in the various hospital waiting rooms where all the magazines have been removed because they were thought to be spreading the flu and the smell of a draining abscess can drive you to desperation. Of course you are not allowed to use your cell phone and have to keep running out to the road to put another twoonie in the parking meter. You run because your child will not stay in the waiting room alone (justifiably so) but you cannot miss your turn so you gallop outside and you gallop back. I am not complaining. I just don't want to be in a hospital unless I absolutely have to be.
I do check in with our youngest regularly to make sure that she feels like she gets enough attention. Fortunately, she says she does. Having an older sibling with epilepsy and a rather rare learning disorder means that the lion's share of our attention is spent on her older sister--- there's no denying that. It's not fair, it's not right but it is the way it is. If you've read any of my other blogs you know that our youngest daughter is an angel, a terror, a beautiful human being and a pain in the neck, at times. She is our second miracle, our little extra gift from God, our lagniappe. I wasn't supposed to be able to have the first daughter; the second one was an unexpected bonus.
Everyone likes a lagniappe, a little something extra: a baker's dozen (13 instead of 12), a free key chain, BOGO shrimp rings (buy one, get one free), an extra rose, a free shampoo sample. This week our youngest has her own little something extra: one blue and almost-completely-signed-on cast. Not free exactly, but memorable nonetheless.
I do check in with our youngest regularly to make sure that she feels like she gets enough attention. Fortunately, she says she does. Having an older sibling with epilepsy and a rather rare learning disorder means that the lion's share of our attention is spent on her older sister--- there's no denying that. It's not fair, it's not right but it is the way it is. If you've read any of my other blogs you know that our youngest daughter is an angel, a terror, a beautiful human being and a pain in the neck, at times. She is our second miracle, our little extra gift from God, our lagniappe. I wasn't supposed to be able to have the first daughter; the second one was an unexpected bonus.
Everyone likes a lagniappe, a little something extra: a baker's dozen (13 instead of 12), a free key chain, BOGO shrimp rings (buy one, get one free), an extra rose, a free shampoo sample. This week our youngest has her own little something extra: one blue and almost-completely-signed-on cast. Not free exactly, but memorable nonetheless.
