Phew. Because on
Friday, we thought we might have.
Amelia came home from school and refused to walk, stand, or put
any weight at all on her left leg.
Two urgent care clinics and a pediatric orthopedic specialist later,
we’ve seen some cool x-rays of our daughter’s hips, legs and knees, and we’ve
learned some new vocabulary: Transient synovitis.
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Did she hurt her hip falling off this bike? |
It’s not serious – basically a virus that settled in her hip
joint, causing inflammation. Painful but temporary, and the cure is a few days
of Advil. She’s back at school
today and mostly back to normal.
But all weekend until we had a firm diagnosis, we worried. And felt
guilty. For what, you ask?
Everything. First of all, we didn’t believe her. How could she have been fine
all day and then, with no injury, suddenly become immobilized? Clearly she just
wanted to be carried, right? We
thought she was just being lazy, and told her so. We tried to trick her into walking. We waited two hours before going to
urgent care, we were so sure this wasn’t real. Oy, the guilt.
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Not fun in urgent care |
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Fun in urgent care |
Seriously, this is the stuff that goes through my head in
the middle of the night. While
sitting in urgent care.
Well, no break.
No injury. No reason for
guilt. No need to homeschool. A
head cold a month ago settled in her joint and for a few days she had a bum hip
and got to satisfy her inner princess by requesting that we fetch things and
carry her around…all 52 pounds of her.
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hard at work |
Once the drama was over, we entertained ourselves with a few
days of sitting still projects. You know, to fill the time left in between me
obsessively asking Amelia whether her hip hurt every time she moved. Filled with residual guilt and general
overprotectiveness, I planned projects to fill our days together at
home. But the most fun we had?
Totally driven by Princess Bum Hip.
While I ran around in an overcompensating frenzy, Amelia picked up a
pair of scissors left on the table and an abandoned ad from our lawn care service.
She started cutting. And she
asked for glue. And yarn. I offered help, and she declined. I asked what she was making, and she wouldn't answer. She intently cut and glued for about 15
minutes, and then proudly presented me with a collage, of a woman with
long hair and yarn fingers reaching for a perfectly triangular slice of
watermelon on a table. She knew
exactly what she was doing and how to do it.
In an instant, Amelia's recent insistence that "I can do it myself" was proven. I may need to carry her once in a while, but I don’t need to watch her every minute.
I hope she won’t break if I don’t.
Woman reaching for a snack on a table. Do you see the watermelon in her hand? |