Thursday, December 10, 2009
Hazard of the Job
Could you still get workman's compensation if your boss happens to be 37 pounds, 41 inches tall, and is absolutely adorable? I was hoisting The Boy onto the bed Tuesday night so he could talk to Daddy on Skype. I had an awkward grip on him with my left hand when suddenly his weight shifted. My yelp startled even me.
I didn't realize how bad it was until the pain kept interrupting my sleep. By the time I woke up and tried to go about my morning routine, it became clear that something was going on with my wrist. Sitting in an ER was out of the question. But Isaiah did have a physical therapy appointment scheduled. I decided I'd ask his PT for his opinion.
After examining my wrists, he concluded I hadn't broken a bone or torn a ligament. What I did have was a pretty pronounced sprain. He said he hears about injuries like this often occurring in the parents of his Special Needs kids, which was both comforting and terrifying at the same time.
In order to give the wrist a chance to heal without re-injury, he recommended a splint. He fitted me for one he had there at the practice and gave me some "Biofreeze" to apply a few times a day.
When people ask me what happened--with a bright pink wrist splint, it is inevitable--I'm prepared to look them straight in the eye and say with conviction, "Special Needs parenting: it ain't for wimps."