Still not fully in belief that we had an emergency on our hands I carried him to the car and called the doctor to make a late afternoon appointment, which I informed them, would likely be cancelled assuming Jackson was "better" by then. After arriving home Jackson spent four hours on the couch watching television and literally not moving the arm once. So Momma gave in and to the doctor we went.
To my utter horror, the doctor suggested that it felt like his arm may in fact have a break, and asked us to head over to the hospital for x-rays. I literally couldn't have felt like a worse mother! Why hadn't I believed him? Why didn't I immediately take him to the emergency room after the first cry? What kind of mother ignores her child's injuries?
The entire drive to the hospital my guilty conscious was throwing promises to the backseat: "How about after the hospital we go have dinner at any restaurant you want?" "I promise you can have a piece of your Halloween candy as soon as the x-ray is taken?" "Won't it be fun to color and paint your cast when we get home?" I nearly cried as they were taking the x-rays and he screamed so loud that a technician from the front heard him and came back to help. The guilt was overwhelming. And then.....
As they went back to read the x-rays and Jackson and I were alone in the room he exclaims, "Mommy, these are the best doctors in the entire world, my arm is all better!!" He then lifts it, twirls it, does push-ups with it, to prove to me that he has been saved. The shock and horror on my face must have been evident as the technicians came back in the room. Oh my how they laughed.
I didn't laugh. I don't even think I smiled. I simply said, "we'll be on our way now, but don't be surprised if we are back soon." The technician knew exactly what I meant as she replied, "when you actually do break his arm!"