More Drama

I was telling my friend, Punky, the other day about how much the Drama Queen is really full of drama! She's been that way since I found out I was pregnant with her. To date, here is her drama:

Almost miscarried; then found out I had placenta previa.

Made it through that to have a not so fun delivery.

Sick baby; for months. Finally found out it was food allergies.

She's had many anaphylactic episodes. None of them fun. Obviously.

She tried to chop off two of her toes. Once she was all stitched up and I threw away my white overalls (somehow I didn't think the blood stains would come off!), we took her home where we were told she'd probably not walk for a few days. I laughed. She was running in the backyard and climbing her Mulberry tree the minute we got home!

She swallowed a penny. Insisted it was stuck. Vitals were good, but let's do an x-ray anyway; oh…it's stuck in her throat, let's take her by ambulance to the children's hospital for surgery. After surgery, we're told she won't be able to eat anything for a few days. I laugh. She insists we get her breakfast on the way home as she's starved.

She splits her head open. BAD! CT scan comes out good, so we head home with 17 staples. We're told she'll probably sleep all day. I laugh. We're told to keep her down for the next 48 hours. I laugh again…this time from hysteria.

She drops a Plexiglas drum container on her foot. It probably weighs a couple hundred pounds. She stops crying, but I take her to urgent care anyway. It seems like she's ok….but, she has her mama's high tolerance for pain. The doc takes an x-ray because I insist that it really could have hurt her. Then she sends us on our way, stating that there is no way it is broke because she can move it. Ok. Then she calls us back. The growth plate is indeed broken; doc is shocked. I laugh. She gives us a special shoe:

 

And tell us to keep her off her foot. We laugh. We go home and decorate the shoe. We also decorate the next three that she goes through. One each week that she manages to destroy. Finally, I just stick her back in her sneakers. Oh…and she loves to gross adults out by showing them which toes is broken…as she moves it. NOOOO!

We've managed to keep her pretty safe for over a year now…almost two!

And then, I made the mistake of asking her to put the dishes away. Simple really, right? Until I hear that scream. You know the one; the one that says someone is hurt? Yeah, that one.

I came around the corner to see a magic blade knife on the counter. I can't see anything but the Drama Queen's head. I say a quick prayer, "Please, Lord, don't let it be blood. I can't handle stitches or staples today."

It turned out it was the stainless steel, copper bottom pot that fell out of her hand and onto….

Yup, the same toe! I wait for a little bit, even though I see it bruising already. Then, hubby and I discuss the situation.

"Well, there was the penny that no one wanted to believe was really stuck. And there was the toe that couldn't possibly be broken."

I call the foot doctor and explain the situation. He says bring her in. Just to be safe. Sure, ok.

The result?

  Not only did she manage to fracture her toe again…but the same exact growth plate…again. Yes, she has now twice broken the same growth plate.

Apparently its not good to keep breaking the same growth plate.

Apparently she needs to not move it. (insert hysterical laughter)

Apparently the young-looking foot doctor has met enough of my family now to take me serious when I say she'll break those wooden shoes. (She takes after me; the one who fractured her foot big time and still has no idea how it happened!)

Apparently he's smarter than us; because he gave her a boot to decorate.

One that he insists she can not tear apart. Or break. Or destroy.

Oh, and apparently she's not allowed to climb trees for three or more weeks. And apparently she can't dance.

Which set off more drama…because there are only a couple of things that she requires for her happiness…her mulberry tree and her dancing. So much so, that tonight as I discussed her foot with her dance teacher on Sundays, she suggested letting her sit on the edge of the stage and at least do the hand motions.

But then, we had an *ah ha!* moment. And we remembered that it was the Drama Queen we are talking about. And we had to agree with the doc. No dance. Cause she'll be up on that stage unable to contain her merry self…and jumping around on that toe…and doing some serious harm (again) to that growth plate that just wants to be left alone.

Yea, I'm thinking maybe stitches would have been better. The healing time is shorter.