Because of the location of his break and the pins in his elbow (lots of padding around them and then cast), my son's cast is really big. No, I mean freaking HUGE when compared to his body. (See photo, below, that I snapped the other day in the car.)
Given the obvious limitations, let me tell you about a few things that may not have immediately crossed your mind but that have proven to be conundrums, either large or small:
1. Little boy shirt sleeves aren't made to go around a cast this size. The options we've come across thus far have been tank tops (as he's wearing here), which thankfully have larger sleeve openings; too big t-shirts; and just giving up and ripping the seams out of existing shirts. So far I've managed to keep it to the first two options, although it did entail buying him a couple new oversized shirts because...
2. School uniforms falls into the category of clothes that don't fit. His uniforms shirts are all polos with sleeves that certainly won't stretch to accommodate this. He's allowed to wear school t-shirts on Fridays, but only Fridays, so I had to buy a couple extra t-shirts from the school bookstore and ask permission for him to wear them every day. It was happily granted, but still another hurdle.
3. Children who can't bend their elbows in any way can't reach their own pants button and zipper. Cue the search for every pair of elastic waist pants I could dig out of his drawers (and, again, permission to wear them to school in lieu of the standard khakis). Other things on the no-can-do list: tying shoes, putting toothpaste on toothbrush and playing with his Nintendo DS (which would otherwise have been an invaluable resource in staving off the inevitable boredom of his activity restrictions).
4. Nerve damage, which may take months or longer to heal, means my son has little sensation and almost no dexterity in his thumb or forefinger -- and, to a lesser extent, his middle finger. This means that even things he can reach, he can't grasp or manipulate very well. No more Ziploc baggies or Tupperware containers for lunch or snacks -- he can't open them. I bought one of those containers with divided compartments inside and a snap-on lid with handles that he can open with one hand.
5. He can't buckle his seat belt one-handed. I can't tell you how many times over the past week I have hopped in the car and prepared to throw it in reverse when my son has piped up from the back seat, "Mom, I'm not buckled." He's been buckling himself in for so long that I just forget that I'm back to seat belt duty for the time being.
6. Sleep is tortured and elusive. The longest stretch of sleep either of us has gotten since he broke his arm was a luxurious 4 1/2 hours last night. Though he's hurting very little anymore during the day, he wakes all night long complaining of pain. I don't know if lying down makes it worse for some reason or if his 5-year-old brain simply translates discomfort as pain (and surely trying to sleep with that thing on your arm is the very definition of discomfort) or what, but we are just NOT getting much sleep. And when he's had medication already, I can't give him more, leaving him crying and whimpering and me helpless and fraught. It's been a delight.
On the plus side, kids adapt so well and so quickly. He can get his pants up and down one-handed and can go the bathroom alone. He can eat and drink just fine as long as I make sure things are cut up for him. And he can operate a remote control. As much as I normally try to steer him away from the TV, I confess that policy has gone out the window for the duration of this injury. The boy needs something to keep from dying of boredom, and if that something's a few episodes of "Scooby Doo," it ain't the end of the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment