The Pain of Being the Little Sister

Earlier this week, I was outside enjoying the unseasonable July weather with my three children. Dinner was on the grill and we were waiting for my wife to return from the grocery store before putting dinner on. My oldest son was running around the backyard, playing imaginary games, while my youngest boy was swinging on the swing-set. My two-year-old daughter was enjoying the thrill of the jungle-gym slide. It was one of those rare moments when all three children were happy, and more importantly getting along, at the same time. This rare moment of bliss lasted right up until my daughter decided the wanted to push her brother on the swing.

Now, her brother was already swinging at a pretty good clip and didn’t need a push from anyone, especially his two-year-old sister. As he reached the top arc of his swing and began his backward descent, his sister took up her “help push” position behind him. The resulting crash sent my daughter flying. She landed in a heap and immediately began screaming in pain and fear. I quickly gathered her up and began cooing soft words of calm and comfort, while both of her brothers gathered around offering her hugs and kisses to make her feel better. My wife arrived home, just as I sent my oldest son in for an ice-pack. My wife is a physical therapist and immediately began checking her over. Nothing appeared broken, there was no blood, although she had several scrapes, her tears dried up, and she was off and running again.

As the evening progressed, it was painfully obvious that she was protecting her right shoulder and would cry in pain when my wife or I picked her up under her shoulders. Again, my wife checked her over and again nothing appeared to be broken. We gave her some Motrin got her down to bed. The next morning, she seemed absolutely fine. She was running, jumping, playing and laughing, just like she normally would. As the day wore on, however, it increasingly became apparent that her shoulder was no okay. It started to develop a bruise and began to swell. Of course, it was too late to get her in to her pediatrician, so we called Children’s Mercy. They told us not to worry about coming in that night, but to be sure to get her in to her doctor in the morning.

The following morning, I called her doctor and was told to take her to Children’s for an x-ray. I explained that we had talked to Children’s and they told us not to come in. My doctor’s office explained that they don’t have x-ray equipment and we need the x-ray. We packed up the diaper bag and headed out. Three hours and several x-rays later, the doctor gave me the news; my precious, little two-year-old daughter had fractured her collarbone (even I could see the fracture on the x-ray). Of course her brother felt horrible, I felt guilty, and my daughter acted as though nothing had happened. Despite the break, she is moving and using her arm like normal, with only the occasional wince of pain. Really, my daughter seems absolutely fine, which is good because there really isn’t a lot the doctors can do for a broken collarbone, other than put her arm in a sling. Anyone have any idea how I can keep an active, two-year-old’s arm in a sling?