King of Excellent (according to Scaryduck)

Friday, December 12

A chip off the old blog?

John's school phoned me yesterday.

"John's hurt his finger. It's a little swollen, and a little bruised, so we're happy for him to be sent home. Can you come and pick him up?"

I get there, and sure enough, he has a small green/blue area around his knuckle, and his index finger is looking like an uncooked sausage. He's also having a bit of difficulty bending it. He is not, however, in any pain whatsoever but he is buzzing from all the attention in school. Thinking it's just probably a sprain of some sort or maybe a bruised bone, I decide to err on the side of caution and pop down to the local accident centre where they can put our mind at rest.

I like the Neath Port Talbot hospital. The main hospital for the area is Morriston Hospital, and normally the casualty department is full of sweaty old men having heart attacks or teenagers who are having their stomachs pumped from drinking too much WKD blue. This means the average waiting time is 4 to 6 weeks to see a doctor. Meanwhile, in Neath Port Talbot hospital, they're pleased to see someone. If you see another patient, you get a prize. The place is deserted. We head in and have a friendly chat with the girl on reception, who then points us straight through to another friendly nurse who examines John's finger.

"Does this hurt?" she says, as she pinches his knuckle.

"John, you can come down from the ceiling now," says I.

She agrees with my diagnosis, saying it's probably just a bad sprain, but we'll get an x-ray anyway. I even get to go in the x-ray room with John, and get to see the xray as it's developed on screen, which is very very cool. Sure enough, a close look and a small chip of bone is visible on his knuckle. I point it out, only to be told that it's a platelet, and not to worry. The doctor again agrees with me however. And so, there it is, another first for John. He's officially broken his first bone, and without all the pain and discomfort that anyone else would suffer. We're back at fracture clinic this morning, but I doubt they will plaster it. John would like to have his fingers plastered in true Winston Churchill style, but again, I can't see that being allowed.

And to say his Christmas has come early is also true. Well, his Christmas holiday anyway. He is a leftie, and it's his left hand he's done it on, so no probably point being in school next week.

*edit* 3:00pm and just returned from the fracture clinic. John doesn't have a plastercast, because where the fracture is it isn't needed. He does have a sling, and gauze and fabric elastoplast so that his finger can be splinted to the other finger alongside. He now also has a nice picture I secretly took on my mobile of the X-ray, so he can show his friends in school.

(clicky to embiggen)