The Gallery: Body Parts

This week’s theme on The Gallery at Sticky Fingers is a weird one. Body parts… What could I write? Maybe I should give it a miss this week? Then I remembered a story I told way back when my blog first started. And it got FOUR WHOLE VIEWS. So it’s probably worth recycling. And big apologies (and even bigger thank yous) if you were one of those four brilliant people that read it.

Breaking a bone is a childhood rite of passage. Most kids will do it at some time. At any one time there will always be two or three kids wandering around school sporting brightly coloured signature-covered plasters on (usually) their arms. A cast is a passport to instant cool and extra friends. It’s easy to forget that kids have to go through a lot of pain to get it.

My eldest, who is generally the least accident-prone of the two boys has broken two bones in his life – remarkably his brother hasn’t broken any.

He broke his arm at the age of 8. I was at work and my mum was holding the fort. My son was playing at his friend’s house. I got a text from my friend telling me that my son had fallen out of a tree and his wrist ‘looked a bit wonky’. After sharing the text with my colleagues and having a giggle about it, I realised this was probably serious and that I ought to go home.

My boy was already waiting for X-ray with my husband when I got back. There was no question that it was broken. It really DID look ‘wonky’. My husband wasn’t in the best mood. He was cross with my son and cross with my friend. There was no need to be cross with either of them. It was an accident. But my husband is very fond of saying ‘accidents don’t happen, accidents are caused.’

The X-ray confirmed the break. And it was going to need an operation to mend it. Manipulating back under general anaesethic if we were lucky, pinning if we were unlucky. So it was through to the plaster room for a temporary plaster. He was also helpfully given some of that freezing local anaesethic stuff on his hands ready for later. Then we were off to the other hospital to wait for his operation.

We arrived in the same ward his brother had been in six weeks earlier, the next bed along (my younger son had knocked his teeth out). The nurses recognised me. The shame! They thought he was the same child.

It was like time stood still. Another boy had a worse break and a long operation, so it was a long wait. My boy was tired, hungry, in pain and bored. Even when it was time to go in for his operation he had a long wait on his bed outside the anaesethic room. By this time it was past his bedtime and he was in tears – the pain and tiredness, combined with nervousness. A very nice nurse phoned everyone she could to try to get him in as quickly as possible, telling them there was a very distressed 6 year old waiting. So he was 8, whatever.

He’d waited so long for his operation that the freezy-hand stuff had worn off. Cue much distress as they tried to insert the anaesethic into his hand.

Luckily he only needed the arm manipulating, so the operation was relatively short. Afterwards, he was slow to come round and still distressed. He was in such a state he had to be given oxygen (or something similar, I’m no medical expert) to calm him. It was 11.30pm before his dream came true and he was able to eat two slices of toast. Then he dropped off to sleep. Lucky him.

Remember the boy with the worse break? He was in the bed opposite and threw up loudly and spectacularly three times during the night. Then there was a girl with learning disabilities admitted about midnight, who screamed and shouted all night. And there was me, who is incapable of falling asleep anywhere but a bed, trying to sleep on a reclining chair which un-reclined every time I moved anything more than an eyelash.


We got the hell out of there first thing the next morning. Ten days later, despite the plaster, my son was climbing a climbing wall, and he was back up a tree as soon as the plaster came off. And I’m pleased to say he hasn’t fallen off since. Touch wood.

I’m linking this up to The Gallery at Sticky Fingers. Pop on over to see how others have interpreted the theme ‘body parts’.

Author: Sarah Mummy

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  1. Ouch. It’s inevitable though with how active children are. I was always a bit gutted I never broke any bones when I was younger because I missed out on a cool plaster cast. My hubby has broken bones on about 7 occasions all through football. Thankfully the last 7 years we’ve been incident free!

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  2. I had a broken arm 3 times when I was little, and can still remember how “cool” I looked. I am hoping my girls will never have a broken bone, fingers crossed.

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  3. We have JUST this week had a plaster cast removed (my teen). Rugby, say no more.
    And FOUR views on a new blog? Get in!

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  4. What a night for you all! I have never broken a bone…! My husband has broken his wrist several times 🙂 So far, touch wood, we have been break free with the kids – only a matter of time at suspect!

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  5. Eeek that sound like a terrible experience for you all. No breaks here for me *touch wood* and so far, no breaks for the kids *rubs wood*

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  6. oh my i am so grateful i have never broken anything in my life!

    lets hope there are no more breaks in your house!

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  7. Thanks very much for your comments, everyone. I remember thinking breaking bones was cool too when I was a kid, Tas! I’ve never broken a bone. Seeing how he suffered, I realise it wasn’t cool at all! That’s a lot of broken bones, Mirka! My kids have friends like that – they seem to go from one plaster to the next! Rugby, grrr, Save Every Step! I know, get me, with my four views! 😉

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  8. Oh no! Glad he recovered quickly. I remember how cool it felt to have a broken arm, and a broken ankle!

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  9. I really never was cool – the only bone I broke as a kid was my toe, which had been left in a very wonky state and I didn’t even get the cred of a cast!

    Half Pint broke his thumb when playing in goals without football gloves, but we didn’t notice until a couple of hours afterwards when he went to put pressure on his ruler when doing homework! Thankfully our experience wasn’t as horrendous as yours, no hospital stay or anything, just a cast. I don’t envy your night on the ward!

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  10. Thanks very much, ladies.
    I’ve never broken anything either, nor did my brother and sister – we must have been very uncool! That thumb sounds painful, Sarah Anne!

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  1. A&E - Mum of Three World - […] after the high low point of my eldest breaking his arm just six weeks after his younger brother knocked his two…

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