Castaway

So yesterday we took the boy to get his cast cut off. When the doctor put the cast on, he said that when he took it off, he'd want to send the boy for follow up x-rays, seeing as how the boy ran around on a broken let for at least four months, a fact which suggests that the absence of pain wouldn't be much of an indicator for us.

But when the doctor took the cast off, he just said, "Okay, see ya, you're good to go!" That kind of thing. I asked about getting a follow up x-ray and he said, "Naaa." It all happened so fast, that we just kind of nodded and collected our things and said thanks and left.

But then later we realized that we really didn't feel at all sure that the leg was healed (seeing as how we never knew it was broken and seeing as how the boy didn't give the leg much rest during our month-long Colorado adventure). So, today, I am proud to say, I called the office and told the assistant what the doctor had said when he put the cast on and that we'd really feel better with some follow up. She ordered the x-rays, and we'll go to the hospital tomorrow to get them done. Which is especially good since, yesterday, the boy started to run across the yard and then collapsed in pain. It seems that perhaps his achilles seized up on him after spending five weeks in a cast doing nothing but chillaxing.

You may be thinking, "Okay, but why is she 'proud' of herself?" Well, I'm proud because I'm a people pleaser who accepts figures of authority. And, in this case, I focused on the well being of my child, authority be damned! Yay, me.