Last week was a long week, starting with Sunday evening. We went to a birthday party for the son of one of Kevin's colleagues. The party was at the campestre, like a country club, and it was probably the biggest party we've been to here, at least for a child. There were hundreds and hundreds of balloons, brightly colored decorations, real clowns, a giant trampoline, bounce house, pool of balls and other large toys and games for the kids. Emma was so amazed by everything that she just stood staring at everything, not knowing where to go first. I think we stood at the door for ten minutes before she decided which toy she'd try out first! Finally we sat down to socialize with the other guests and Emma ran around to play. A few minutes later she returned and asked if she could jump on the trampoline. I took off her shoes and helped her onto the trampoline and then sat back down, about fifteen feet from her. She was having a blast! I kept looking over at her to make sure she was fine and of course, she was. Another girl, about 5 or 6 years old, decided to join her and Emma was thrilled. She loves older girls and had fun being bounced around. I turned to talk to Kevin and seconds later I heard crying. I heard a little girl say someone was hurt and then I saw that it was Emma crying. I ran to the opening of the trampoline and told her to come to me. She stood and tried to take a step and couldn't put any pressure on her right leg. A knot formed in my stomach. I think Emma's a pretty tough girl; usually when she gets hurt, she brushes herself off and returns to playing. Occasionally she'll need a kiss, but it only takes her seconds to recover. I knew this time was different. I crawled onto the trampoline and gathered her in my arms. Her crying was uncontrollable and I was really scared. I held her tightly and prayed, trying to comfort her without letting her know I was afraid of what had happened. We sat back at our table and everyone began checking her out, trying to assess her and offer advice. Someone gave us some ice to put on her leg, but that made Emma cry harder. I couldn't tell if she had hurt her ankle or shin or knee so I just held her, trying to calm her down enough to talk to me. The noise from the party, along with the background music, was loud so I took Emma outside to sit. She calmed down and we just talked about the party and the outdoor pool and how we should go swimming. I tried to distract her while I set her down on her feet. She grimaced in pain and began crying again. I was calmly panicking. The thought of visiting doctors here just doesn't appeal to me (honestly, it terrifies me), but I knew we'd have to do something. As I was wondering what I was going to do, one of Emma's classmates from school came through the door. He was with his dad and mom and Emma's face lit up when she saw them. I explained what had happened and we talked for a little bit. Cris, the mom, suggested we visit Dr. Jadir, who lives just down the street. We've known him since we moved here, but we've never had to visit him. I knew he was a doctor, but wasn't sure of his specialty. Cris said to let her know if we needed any help and then they walked away toward the pool. Kevin had joined us and as we turned, the Doctor himself walked through the doors. He was on his way to play tennis. He greeted us and asked how we were doing. I immediately explained what had happened. He dropped his gym bag and racket and examined Emma right there. He was so calm and patient and spoke completely in English. He said in cases like hers, they always order an x-ray first. As he was saying that, he was already dialing the number to the hospital. After explaining what had happened to the people at the hospital, he told us to head over there, get the x-ray and then he'd meet us there. I can't even begin to explain the peace that settled over me during those five minutes. I felt like God was taking care of us and I didn't need to panic. We were so grateful. We said goodbye to the parents of the birthday boy (who were feeling awful by that point), and drove the short distance to the hospital. Since it was a Sunday night, there weren't very many people waiting. Kevin dropped us off so he could grab our identification documents at home and Emma and I headed toward the x-ray lab. She was terrified of the x-ray table and screamed like I've never heard her scream before. It was heart-wrenching, but I knew we needed a good x-ray for the doctor. A nurse came in and helped me hold Emma down. I was talking in her ear, trying to calm her down, but I wasn't sure how to explain that the fear and pain she was experiencing were for good. After two views, we were finished and Emma clung to me like koala bear on a tree. We exited the room and Kevin was waiting for us with a look of sadness on his face. He had heard his daughter screaming and couldn't enter the room to help. He hugged her and we walked down the hallway toward the exam room, developed x-rays in hand. Dr. Jadir entered the room a few minutes later and took a look at the x-rays. He said the good news was that it wasn't broken. The bad news was that she had twisted it badly enough that she needed a splint. He began making the cast and explained each step as he went along. I cradled Emma as he and the nurse and Kevin placed the splint on Emma's leg. Again, she had no idea what was happening and it was all very scary to her, so she was crying and I was singing her songs and then it was all over and she had a cute little cast-looking splint on her leg. We went home with orders for Tylenol and rest. We watched a short movie and ate popcorn and then we all went to bed. Emma slept peacefully, but I was awake every other hour to check on her. The next morning she was a bit weepy because she couldn't do very much on her own, but after the first half hour, she was content to just sit. She read books on the couch and sat at her little table to color and put together puzzles. The morning passed without a complaint from her. We took several trips to the bathroom and I was reminded how great it is to have an independent child when it comes to potty time. My arms were sore by lunchtime just from picking her up a few times! Thirty pounds seemed pretty light until I started carrying her again!
Well, we revisited the doctor on Wednesday morning and he seemed pretty positive about Emma's second x-ray (though honestly, I couldn't see a difference between the first and second). We took her cast off on Saturday, hoping she'd be excited to take off running. Nope. She was terrified to put pressure on her right leg and whimpered each time we made her try. I have to admit I was a little concerned as to whether or not the doctor had diagnosed her correctly, especially after a colleague of Kevin's said we should get a second opinion. All day Saturday and Sunday, Emma crawled around like a baby. Occasionally she would scooch on her bottom, using her hands and left leg to move herself. It was quite comical and my floors were clean where her little bottom had been! Last night Kevin said he would try to get an appointment with another doctor sometime this week. We might still do that. However, this morning, around 8, Emma came limping slowly out of her room. I can't even tell you how excited I was to see her on both feet!! For the past few hours, she's been walking around the house, slowly and carefully, but at least she's on both feet. She seems to be timid about going too quickly and I think that's great. She hasn't complained of pain but she did say she's scared to walk too fast. I'll think we'll give her a few more days and see how she heals. We've been explaining to her that God created our bodies to heal after sicknesses and injuries and sometimes He uses doctors to help us heal. I think it's fun that she's getting to experience that wonder in first person. OK, fun might be an overstatement, but I'm trying to be positive!
Speaking of positive, I have an incredibly loving and caring husband. Saturday morning I woke up with another bout of food poisoning, or at least what I'm attributing to bad food, specifically, eggs. I'll spare you most of the details, but let's just say havoc was wreaked on both ends of my body, several times each. The cramps in my abdomen were worse than labor cramps and I will be eternally grateful if I never have to experience that sickness again in my life! I spent the entire day curled up in a ball (except when I was visiting my porcelain friend) and my dear husband took care of breakfast, lunch and supper, along with entertainment for Emma. He sat by me while I moaned and made sure I was as comfortable as could be. He listened to horrid sounds coming from the bathroom and still had the courage to poke his head in to see if I was alive. Bless him, dear Lord, for having to live with me that day (and other days for that matter).
By about 8pm that evening, I finally felt a little better. I ate a piece of bread and a peach and took some acidophilus and kept it all down. I slept ten hours Saturday night and woke up feeling strangely normal the next morning. I've been fine ever since. This is the fourth time I've had this sickness since moving to Brazil and each time, eggs have been involved. I'm sure I have some sort of allergy to eggs or at least raw eggs. You'd think I would have learned after the first experience. I'm not really fond of vomitting, nor diarrhea for that matter. I hope I've learned my lesson. We'll see (fingers crossed)!!
Those were just a few things that kept our week busy. This week, I have zero plans so far. I'm looking forward to a calm week and hope our family can return to normal!! Tchau!
