Chapter 20: Oliver's Broken Arm
Working two days in a row meant Owen had the next two days off. Playing Mr. Mom, his day would include dropping the older kids off to school, spending the day with the twins, and then running the afternoon shuttle to lessons and practices.
After dropping off Finley, Oliver, and Bronwyn, Owen braved the interior of Starbucks with toddlers in tow. Gwen had a PT appointment at 9:30, so Owen was looking to waste some time before heading to the hospital. While he sipped his coffee, the twins shared a croissant and competed with one another for Owen's attention. Nearly every woman in the store had to stop by and flirt with the girls and ask about their age. The well-practiced explanation of fraternal versus identical twins was recited to a few folks who asked how the twins could look so different from one another.
The trio proceeded to the grocery store adjacent to the coffee shop once they completed their morning treat. Loading the girls into the larger portion of the cart, Owen was clear that they both remain seated. Even at 15 months old, this was one rule the twins followed without failure. Owen had seen too many unnecessary ER visits from kids toppling out of carts. His expectations were clear, consistent, and firm. Early morning shoppers commented on the girls – the questions about twins and admiration of the babies was a given at the grocery store as well as at Starbucks. Owen grabbed bananas, apples, bread, Goldfish crackers, jelly, honey, and cereal. Since he wasn't headed directly home, the milk and other refrigerated items on the list would have to wait.
After arriving at the hospital, Owen put Gwen in the stroller and held Ella's hand. Ella enjoyed walking and basically insisted on pulling Owen along as if she knew the way to their next stop. Much to her furious dismay, Owen dropped Ella off at the hospital daycare before taking Gwen to her PT appointment. The daycare worker encouraged Owen to step out even though Ella was in the midst of a full tilt tantrum. After apologizing, Owen reluctantly left with Gwen in his arms.
PT was among Gwen's favorite places. Not only did she get all the attention from whomever brought her to the appointment, she also had therapists who doted on her. At her appointment, her therapist monitored Gwen's gait and ability to balance. Together, they worked with her muscle contractions, posture, and joint alignment. The therapist encouraged Gwen to stand while holding onto a support, which was becoming easier with each visit. She also nudged the toddle to try standing without a support before the session ended. In the end, they concluded with walking practice using her swivel walker. Each step and each action were celebrated to encourage Gwen to stay motivated and engaged. When Gwen's ability wasn't quite what the therapist had hoped, she began asking questions about practices at home. Owen readily admitted that he tended to carry Gwen often. As Owen and Gwen prepared to leave, the therapist strongly urged Owen to have Gwen walk with her walker whenever and wherever possible rather than be carried. Deep down, Owen was glad another baby was on the way. He couldn't imagine consistently empty arms.
Returning to the hospital daycare took a bit longer than normal, as Owen encouraged Gwen to walk down the hallways. When he and Gwen arrived at the daycare room, the staff applauded and celebrated as Gwen, hands tightly grasping her walker, walked in. The attention made her giggle, then stop and applaud along with everyone else.
As Owen scanned the room for Ella, he spotted Amelia and Ella playing with playdough at a table. "Hey," he greeted as he leaned down to kiss his wife, "I didn't think we'd get to see you this morning."
"Me either," Amelia quipped with a frown. "They called me when Ella wouldn't settle down after fifteen minutes."
"I'm sorry," Owen sighed with disappointment. He knelt down to Ella and looked her in the eyes, "Miss Ella, these tantrums are a problem." Ella locked her eyes on her daddy as if she understood each word. After a stare off, which Owen won, Ella sighed loudly and resumed pounding playdough.
The celebrated walker, the rebellious fit thrower, and their daddy kissed Amelia goodbye and headed home. Later, after lunch, Owen and the girls took naps. The morning had exhausted him, and he was thankful the twins fell asleep quickly. The day was unseasonably warm, so he left his balcony door open. As he faded off to sleep, he listened to the water, the leaves rustling in the wind, and birds singing outside.
As a parent of young children, time for sleep seemed consistently limited. At 2:00pm, after just over an hour of rest, Owen's cell phone rang. Startled, he jumped as the sound filled the room. He sleepily answered, "Dr. Hunt."
Mrs. Tonnington, the principal at the boys' school, was on the other side of the call. "Dr. Hunt, I'm calling about Oliver. He's fine, but we're concerned he may have broken his arm."
"Oh," Owen responded as he woke up and took in the words. "Umm… tell me more. Did you call 911? Is he bleeding? Conscious?"
"He is completely conscious and fully aware. He did not hit his head when he fell. The skin is not broken, but there is swelling and tenderness. He tells us it is painful and difficult to move, and we have ice on it. Since it didn't appear to be life-threatening, we decided to call you first," the principal explained.
"Thanks for your call. I'm on my way," Owen stated. With hesitation and afraid he'd have two very tired toddlers on his hands, Owen crept into the nursery. He carefully moved Gwen first and was able to move her into her car seat without fully waking her up. Binky in mouth and blankie in hand, she fell back to sleep right away. He set the diaper bag down on the floor of the Enclave and returned upstairs to deal with Ella.
"Ella," Owen whispered as he began to pick up his prickly girl, "Daddy needs to put you in your car seat, but you can sleep. Shhhhhhh…." He slowly lifted her up, grabbed her beloved Kitty toy and made sure a binkie was in hand. Rocking back and forth, Owen swayed to keep Ella groggy. She rested her head on his shoulder and began sucking on her binkie while grabbing his shirt in her fist. All the way down the stairs, Owen shhh'd her and spoke softly. Slipping her into her car seat, Owen kissed Ella's cheek and reassured her, "There you go, baby girl. Shhhhh….stay asleep. Dada's right here." Owen let out a sigh of relief as Ella flopped her head against the side of the car seat and continued to surrender to her nap.
As he drove the short distance to the school, Owen called Amelia. His call was picked up by voicemail. Guessing she was probably in surgery, he dictated a text, need to connect briefly but asap.
Moments later, his phone rang as Amelia's voice came over the Bluetooth system, "Hi, O. I'm in surgery and you're on speaker."
"No problem," he assured her. "What are you working on?"
"What?" Amelia asked with a hint of shock. She asked herself if he really just called to ask about surgical details.
"Are you opening? Closing? Deep in the middle of a procedure?" Owen inquired calmly.
"Does it matter?" Amelia quipped as she rolled her eyes and motioned to Edwards, "Suction, please."
"Amelia…" Owen stated plainly. He decided to act as if the call was dropped and hung up his phone. Telling her about Oiver's arm when she was deep inside someone's brain would not be helpful.
Almost immediately, his phone rang, and he was greeted with Amelia's voice. "What's wrong? Are the kids ok?" she asked with concern.
"Where are you with your patient?" Owen repeated.
"I stepped away. Edwards is closing. You have me sufficiently freaked out," Amelia shared.
"All is well. Ollie fell and hurt his arm at school and I'm bringing him in. No trauma, no head wound, he's conscious," Owen explained.
"Should I meet you there?" Amelia inquired.
"I'm just pulling up to the school. Let me take a look and call you back," Owen promised. He parked alongside the playground where he saw a small group of people surrounding a scene. The students had been sent back to their classrooms. Just a teacher's aide, Finley, Naomi, Mrs. Tonnington, and a playground supervisor remained outside with Oliver.
Finley and Naomi came running up toward Owen. Rolling his eyes, Finley shared, "Dad, he's cracking jokes."
Naomi added, "I think he's only doing that to pretend he isn't hurting. Poor kiddo."
Owen smiled and asked them to wait at the car in case the twins awoke. He quickly stepped over to Oliver, who was leaning against part of a play structure.
"Hey, Dad," Oliver smirked, obviously attempting to hide his discomfort.
"Hi, buddy," Owen greeted as he knelt down and set his med bag beside him. "Let's take a look here…"
As Owen peeled the ice pack away, Oliver exclaimed with wonder, "That bruise is wicked nasty. I want a picture of it!"
"Hold your arms out in front of you like this so I can see them next to each other," Owen advised. Oliver held his arms out. His right arm was visibly different and had a large bump in it. When Owen palpated around that area, Oliver no longer found the process intriguing. "Ouch!" he screamed, "Don't do that, Dad!"
"Okay, okay," Owen relented. "Where's your pain from 1 to 10?"
"Seven," Oliver assessed.
Trying to distract Ry from the ibuprofen shot he was about to give him, he asked, "I'm going to hold on to your good arm. You show me exactly where it hurts on your bad one." As Oliver pressed the area, Owen slipped a shot into Oliver's other arm.
"That was so not cool!" Oliver roared.
"But it worked, didn't it?" Owen grimaced. "Sorry, pal. I knew if I asked you, you'd try to talk me out of it. The shot's going to help the swelling and pain."
"I don't care. That was not cool, Dad. Not ok at all," Oliver expressed loudly with a mixture of pouting and anger. "Do they let you do that to other people's kids at the hospital? 'Cause they shouldn't."
"Nope. I just get to do it to my own kids." Owen explained calmly as he continued, "Let's immobilize your arm temporarily." He tied a makeshift sling around Oliver's neck and explained, "Let's get you over to the hospital and Dr. Torres or Dr. Karev can take a look, ok?"
Oliver nodded but insisted, "No. More. Shots. Dad. Do you hear me? That was beyond uncool." Owen smirked and thanked the adults who had helped. He explained that he'd take both Naomi and Finley with him since he was set to pick Naomi up that day anyway.
When he sat down in the car, Owen had three texts and two voicemails from Amelia. He smiled and handed his phone to Finley, "Would you call your mom, please?"
Finley returned her calls from Owen's phone. Thinking Owen was calling, Amelia's first words were, "So? I've been waiting."
"Hi, Mom," Finley responded. "We're on our way to the hospital. Dad thinks Oliver broke his arm."
"How is he? Is he hurting?" Amelia inquired.
Finley grimaced, "Oliver, Mom wants to know if you're hurting."
"Tell her I'm a seven," Oliver winced.
"I heard," Amelia confirmed, saving Finley the repetition.
Owen asked Finley to put the phone on speaker and he interjected, "I'm pretty sure he has a transverse fracture of the ulna. We're on our way. Can you arrange for someone to pick up Bronwyn?"
"Sure," Amelia promised. "I'll call Lynne and I'll see you all soon."
When the melee minus Bronwyn arrived at the hospital, the twins were awake and hungry and Oliver's ability to pretend he didn't hurt was failing. Oliver really believed he needed to enter through the ambulance bay, but Owen insisted they park in a regular ER spot and walk. Owen asked Finley and Naomi to stay with the twins and dig around in the bag for some snacks while he handed Oliver off to Amelia.
"Oh, sweet boy," Amelia groaned in pity when she approached Owen and Oliver just outside the car. She wrapped her arms around his head and stroked his hair. "Let's get you inside and take care of that arm." Oliver leaned into his mom with resignation, then mumbled, "Dad sneak shotted me."
"He what?" Amelia asked.
Owen sighed loudly, "I gave him a shot of ibuprofen when he wasn't looking. You got him? I've got Finley, Naomi, and the twins in the car."
"Lynne's on her way, then she'll pick up Bronwyn. You want to stay out here until she arrives or bring them all in?" Amelia wondered aloud.
"You've got Ollie. I'll sit tight out here and then be in," Owen decided. "Order the x-ray when you get inside, so it's done before Karev or Torres gets down there…that'll save some time."
Oliver received the royal treatment in the ER since nearly everyone knew him. Jackson carried him to x-ray and then to an exam room. Once in the room, Jackson set the exam table so the upper third was raised. "Here, Ollie. Rest your back against the higher part and put your arm about your head. I'll go grab some ice."
While Jackson was out of the room, Oliver asked Amelia, "Will I get to see the x-rays?"
"Yep. You could even snap a picture of them with your phone if you want," she smiled.
When Jackson returned to the room, he helped distract Oliver from the pain. "I'm thinking we could consider some plastic surgery while you're here," Jackson teased as he began drawing cartoons showing how they could change Oliver's face. Oliver laughed when he surveyed the possibilities. As soon as Karev came in, Jackson excused himself and told Amelia to let him know if she needed him.
"Hey, buddy," Karev said as he came through the door. "Did we already get a picture of this?" he asked as he removed the ice and surveyed the bruise.
Amelia responded, "Films are on their way. Dr. Wilson is waiting for them."
Alex nodded and sat on the doctor's stool. "Dude…what did you do? Don't tell me a girl did that to you."
Oliver laughed, "Umm… NO! I was walking on the top of the bars where you do the balancing thing with your arms and I kinda slipped."
"Kinda, huh?" Alex chuckled. Oliver shrugged. "Where's your pain from 1 to 10?"
"Maybe a six, almost a seven. It still really hurts, but I don't want another shot," Oliver clarified.
"Shot? Who gave you a shot?" Alex asked as he surveyed the chart.
Amelia disclosed, "Owen felt it necessary to inject ibuprofen in the field which wouldn't have been so bad if Oliver had known it was coming."
"He sneak shotted me," Oliver huffed. "Is that even allowed?"
"That's just wrong, dude. I'm sorry," Karev sympathized. "Geez…Dads, huh?"
"Tell me about it," Oliver said as he rolled his eyes.
Karev looked at Amelia and grimaced. He explained, "I can give him codeine, but that might wreak havoc on his stomach. That's the standard. Dilaudid is another option, but then we're using narcotics. What do you think, Mom?"
"Let's try some fresh ice for a while and see what Owen thinks. He should be in here any minute," Amelia suggested.
Owen walked in as she finished speaking and immediately inquired, "See what Owen thinks about what?"
"Dilaudid," Amelia responded.
"That's fine. The ibuprofen isn't helping?" Owen asked as he began to approach Oliver and studiously examine the arm.
"Dadddddd! Dr. Karev's doctoring me now. Step away with your needles and stuff," Oliver commanded.
Owen laughed and put his hands in the air as Jo entered. He asked her, "What's the verdict?"
Jo slid the films onto the screen, and everyone looked, "Dr. Torres hasn't reviewed these yet but she promised she'd be right down."
Alex stood up and tapped on one film, "Looks like a pretty simple and clean break. Jo, let's give him ½ teaspoon of liquid Dilaudid and prep for a cast. He won't need surgery." Turning to Oliver, Alex asked, "Who's doing your cast, dude? Me or Dr. Torres?"
"Who does them better?" Oliver asked in a matter-of-fact tone.
Callie happened to enter the room at that point and responded, "Actually, Dr. Wilson is amazing with casts and she is much cooler about letting you pick colors. She's less bossy than Dr. Karev too," Callie giggled.
She sat down on the doctor's stool that Alex had just vacated and began her exam, "Let's take a look, Oliver. I promise not to touch where it hurts." Touching his fingers, Callie requested that he grab her finger. Then she asked Oliver, "Did anyone show you the x-rays or did all these doctors just hog the screen?"
"They hogged it," Oliver shrugged.
Callie had Alex pick Oliver up and hold him by the screen as she explained, "Yep…you broke it. See right there? That crack all the way across the bone? That's the break. I'm guessing you fell off something and tried to catch your body using your arm."
"Pretty much," Oliver confirmed. "I was walking on top of the bars that you're supposed to balance your hands on."
"Hmmm…didn't work so well, did it?" Callie teased as she messed up Oliver's hair. "Dr. Wilson's going to start your cast. Do you have any questions for me before I leave?"
Oliver responded, "Can I still be a Blue Angels pilot if I broke my arm?"
"I am pretty sure you can," Callie responded with a wink. "Ask your dad to check with his military contacts just to make sure." She discussed prescription details with Alex and stepped out.
Jo re-entered with the meds and then explained, "We've got tons of colors, Oliver." She looked down at a note and began with enthusiasm, "blue, light blue, pink, purple, red, black, yellow, green, orange, and white."
"Can I have more than one color?" Oliver asked.
Just as Owen was about to say no, Jo responded, "Yep. Two colors. I can do them like stripes. Three gets too complicated though. Two's the limit."
"Regular blue and yellow," Oliver shared decisively. "Blue Angels' colors."