"Hos-hospital; br-broken?" Stan's face quickly paled.
"Keep that towel snug, honey. I'll turn off the oven and get my keys," Sharon hurried back into the kitchen.
Kyle was speechless.
"I'm okay…! I-I don't need to go to the – the hospital!" His voice was cracking.
The injured boy lifted his hurt arm out in front of his body trying to move it.
"I'm – I'm okay…," he whispered, as if trying to convince himself before looking up at Kyle.
As they made eye contact, Kyle could see the pain and fear in his super best friend's eyes; his heart sank.
He took a seat next to Stan on the couch.
"Everything will be okay, Stan," he scooted close.
"I promise…," he said, slinging his arm over Stan's shoulders and pulling him close.
Stan was literally shaking.
"But you know you need to go to the hospital, dude," Kyle released Stan from his comforting embrace.
"Yeah…," Stan responded shakily, wiping his eyes with his left hand.
"Alright, boys; let's go," Sharon beckoned them to the door.
Kyle opened the rear car door for Stan and crawled in after him.
Speeding through traffic, Sharon wasted no time in getting to the hospital.
As the vehicle rounded the turn into the parking lot designated by the red Emergency Room sign, Stan felt like he was going to be sick.
Kyle sensed this.
"Just take a deep breath, man. The hospital isn't a bad place; they're going to take care of you and make you feel better," he reassured.
"Just breathe…"
The car came to a stop in a parking place just adjacent to the ER door.
Sharon exited and opened the rear door on Stan's side extending her hand to him.
"Come on, sweetheart."
He grasped it tightly with his uninjured hand as she led him into the building with Kyle following closely.
The nurse behind the station near the sliding doors stood up as the trio entered.
"How can I help you?" Her eyes immediately focused on Stan.
"I think my son may have broken his wrist," Sharon's voice was filled urgency.
"Alright, Ma'am; I'll just need you to fill out these forms first and we'll get him taken care of," she handed Sharon a clipboard and pen.
She sighed, clearly annoyed as she began to move toward the waiting area.
"Come on, Stanley."
Stan followed her around the corner and took a seat by the window; Kyle took the seat beside him.
The two sat in silence for a few minutes, hearing only the speedy movement of pen on paper.
"So… How you doing?" Kyle looked at Stan, trying to break the silence.
"How – how do you think I'm doing, Kyle?!" He barked.
His retort was an obvious combination of fear, frustration, and pain.
Kyle could see him clenching his left fist as more tears stung at his eyes.
"Sorry…"
"Okay," Sharon spoke as she finished the paperwork and walked it back to the nurse station.
"Alright," the nurse grabbed a folder from the table and motioned to Stan, "Come with me."
She led them down the hallway to the second room on the right.
"Take a seat right there, dear," she pointed Stan to the exam room bed as Kyle and Sharon sat down on the two chairs against the wall.
"I just need to take some quick vital signs. Okay, Stanley? It's procedure."
Stan's lack of a response spoke consent.
She proceeded to take his temperature, heart rate, blood pressure, and record his respiratory rate.
"Temp: 98 degrees, heart rate: 113 BPM, blood pressure: 134/92, respiratory rate: 27 breaths per minute," she read aloud recording the information.
"Okay, Stanley; the doctor should be with you soon," she smiled as she exited the room.
A few minutes later, the doctor entered.
"Hi there, Stanley," he patted him on the back, "It's nice to meet you. You too Mrs. Marsh," he turned toward Sharon.
"Likewise," she responded.
"Now what did you do, Stanley?"
"I hu-hurt my – my wrist," he hiccupped.
"Let's take a look at it," the doctor began to gently unwrap his home-made splint.
"So, what grade are you in, bud?"
"F-fourth."
"Fourth grade? Wow! What's your favorite subject?"
Stan had to think about that one for a minute before responding.
"H-history… I guess."
"I liked history a lot back in grade school too. It was always better than having to do math homework every single night."
"I know!" Stan exclaimed with a hint of cheerfulness in his tone.
Once the home-made splint had been removed, he observed the large bruise on his right wrist and examined the swelling of the injured area.
"Now what were you doing that could have caused this?"
"P-playing b-basketball…"
The doctor's touch caused Stan to yelp in pain.
"Ouch… That looks like it hurts a lot."
Stan nodded furiously, gritting his teeth.
"I'll get you something to make it feel better. I'll be right back."
He exited the room and promptly returned not a minute later.
"Take this, buddy. It should take some of that pain away," he handed Stan a small paper cup with a medium sized white pill in it.
The doctor turned to Sharon.
"I'm giving him a 15mg dose of codeine, he looks like he's in some pretty good pain; it should take the edge off. It's a fairly strong pain killer for someone his age; he might be sleepy or a little out of it for a while.
"We're going to need to get an X-ray of that wrist," he continued, "I already called imaging and they're setting up the room now," he turned back to Stan, "It'll be just a few minutes and we can get you down there and take a look at what's going on. One of our X-ray techs will come and get you when they're ready."
"I'll be back to talk with you after we get the images," he said, stepping out of the small room.
As hard as he was trying to keep it together, Stan looked like he was about to lose it at the thought of needing an X-ray.
Sharon stood up and moved beside him.
"X-rays don't hurt at all, honey," she soothed.
Stan still looked skeptical.
"They really don't!" Kyle chimed in. I've had one before, they don't hurt at all."
"You – you have…?" Stan looked up.
"Yeah!" Kyle began, "Remember that soccer game in first grade? When I fell and really twisted my ankle?"
Stan looked unsure.
"How my mom was going to take me to the hospital and you didn't want to play anymore because you wanted to come with me to make sure I was alright? And how for like the next week you hung out with me after school and we watched movies and stuff while everyone else played outside because you didn't want me to be lonely?"
"Oh… Yeah…," Stan remembered.
"They thought I may have broken my ankle then so I had to have an X-ray. It didn't hurt at all, I promise… It's okay to be a little scared though. I know I was…," Kyle looked off to the side.
Sharon nodded her head in agreement.
"See?" Stan cleared his throat, "That's why I didn't want you to go to the hospital alone…"
Kyle smiled at his super best friend.
"Stanley, another woman peaked in the door, "We're ready for you."
He looked at his mom and then at Kyle.
"Don't worry," she opened the door, "They can come along. They'll just have to stand behind a wall while I take the pictures," she motioned for everyone to follow her.
They trekked through the hallways and eventually ended up in a small room with a large white machine hanging from the ceiling in conjunction with a few other imaging and seating fixtures. In the far corner of the room there was a narrowly walled off windowed area with a bunch of computers.
The tech led Stan to the seat in the middle of the room next to a small table.
Sharon and Kyle took a place by behind the barrier by the computers.
"Have you ever had an X-ray before?" She asked, sitting him down and gently placing his injured arm onto the imaging plate.
"No…"
She could sense he was pretty nervous.
"Well this is an X-ray machine," she reached up and positioned it over his arm, "It's basically a giant camera that's going to let us see the bones in your wrist. After I set you up I'll go back to the computers and press a button to snap the picture a few times and you'll be done! Don't worry when you hear a clicking noise after I press the button; it's just the machine taking the picture. It won't hurt at all."
I'm going to help you move your arm into a position and you're going to have to keep it really still for me, okay?"
"Kay."
She moved behind the barrier.
"Alright, here we go!"
Click, Click, Click.
"All done! Good job, Stanley!"
He was genuinely surprised it was over that fast.
The tech proceeded to lead them back to the exam room.
"The doctor will be back in as soon as he looks over the X-rays," she closed the door.
"That wasn't too bad, now was it Stanley? Sharon questioned.
"I guess not…"
"We told you!" Kyle laughed.
Shortly thereafter, the doctor walked back in carrying the X-rays.
"Well, Stanley; it looks like you did break your wrist," he hung the X-rays on the viewing stage and flipped the light on.
They all could clearly see the break in the bone on the picture.
"Oh my gosh!" Sharon gasped.
Stan felt like he was going to throw up looking at the picture.
Kyle even flinched at the sight.
"Normally we see buckle or greenstick fractures in children," the doctor explained, "Fractures where the most superficial layer of bone on one side is compressed and causes the other side to bend away from the growth plate but not actually separate apart; or fractures that extend through a portion of bone causing it to bend on the other side… But it looks like Stanley here has a complete distal fracture of the right radius."
"What does that mean?" Sharon asked, concerned with how serious it looked and sounded.
"It means that you had to land pretty hard!" He turned toward Stan, "It's a more severe break than the other two I talked about but luckily it was a clean and simple break that isn't going to require surgery or anything. We're just going have to cast it for six to eight weeks while the bones grow back together."
The doctor moved back toward the door, "I'll go get the supplies and we can get that on and get you out of here."
Stan was incredibly upset again and looked as if he could cry.
He returned with a plastic container of supplies and a small water bucket and pulled up a chair next to Stan.
"I'm only going to need to cast from about here to here," he indicated a section of Stan's right arm between about the first joint in his fingers to a little past the midpoint of his forearm.
"The cast is going to protect that broken bone and keep it in place while it heals back together. Because the cast is basically going to immobilize your wrist and its' surrounding muscles and ligaments; you shouldn't be in near as much pain," he turned to Sharon, "But if he complains about being in pain give him ibuprofen; that way it can help with any swelling as well."
"Alright," she acknowledged.
"Okay, Stanley; I'm going to explain to you exactly how this works. First I'm going to cover that area with something that is sort of like a glove or a sleeve. Then I'll wrap some cotton around it so it's more comfortable for you. After the cotton layer comes the hard layer; the actual cast. It goes on wet – that's why I have a bucket of water – and it hardens as it dries. Okay?"
Stan solemnly nodded his head and held out his arm.
As the doctor began his work manipulating materials around Stan's injured wrist, the pain was considerably duller compared to earlier.
"So, who is this?" He looked over at the quiet boy sitting by Sharon, "Your brother?"
"Basically… That's Kyle, he's my super best friend."
"Super best friend?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know many fourth grade boys who would want to go hang around a hospital emergency room while their friend had X-rays and the whole nine yards. You're lucky to have a friend that cares about you so much, you know that?"
"I know"
He began wrapping the cotton layer.
"You said you were playing basketball; is that your favorite sport?"
"No… I like football more than basketball."
"Football, huh? What's your favorite team?"
"The Denver Broncos."
"True Colorado born and raised!" The doctor laughed.
"Now here's the fun part," he set out various different colors of fiberglass bandages, "You get to choose what color of cast you want!"
Stan looked at the display of colors, vexed by the doctor's joyous demeanor.
"I don't care," Stan replied in a bitter, ambivalent tone."
"You said the Broncos were your favorite football team. How about orange or blue?"
"You like blue, don't you, sweetie?" Sharon offered.
"Yeah! Blue would look cool, Stan!" Kyle added.
Stan looked back at the doctor and nodded.
"Blue it is!"
He began to rip open the bandage packages, dip them in water, and wrap them.
Finishing up, the doctor had to give one last speech.
"Three important things to remember, Stanley. One: make sure to keep this dry. Two: if it starts to itch, do not stick anything down in it to scratch. And three: make sure to take it easy on your right arm, you don't have to not do anything, but keep activity to a minimum."
By now the cast had pretty much hardened and Stan could feel how awkward it was going to be having this thing on.
"Make sure to elevate that wrist tonight until the swelling goes down a bit. And that's it! You handled this whole thing pretty well, Stanley. I'll see you back in about 8 weeks and we can get that cast off. You should be good to go."
"Thanks, doctor," Sharon said.
"You're welcome! Just give us a call if you need anything."
Sharon stood up and extended her hand to Stan once again. The three of them walked back out to the car and headed home.
The drive back to the Marsh house took place in complete silence.
"Good job, Stanley. I'm proud of you for being such a big boy tonight," Sharon said as they entered the house.
Stan just sighed as tried to take off his jacket.
Sharon saw him struggling to get it off and helped.
"I'll get you comfortable and start dinner back up, your father should be home soon now," she led him to the couch and undid his shoes before stacking a few pillows up on his right side to elevate his wrist. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me, sweetie," she handed him the television remote and walked away.
Kyle sat down next to Stan as he flipped on the television, leaving the channel where it was – the evening news.
Kyle suffered through the boring show for countless minutes until he finally could not take it anymore.
"Interested in finding something else to watch, maybe? This is so boring!" He laughed.
"I don't know man…," Stan responded after a bit of a delay, "But I think that pain killer is workin pretty good right about now… I feel kinda dizzy."
"Do you want me to bring you a glass of water or something, honey?" Sharon called from the kitchen.
"I broke my wrist, not my leg!" Stan yelled, "If I want a glass of water I'll get up and get one!"
He stood up fast and wobbled before falling back on the couch.
"Stan?" Kyle was concerned.
"I'm tired! I'm just going to go bed!" He hollered.
He stood back up and made his way to the stairs, Kyle followed closely anticipating him to fall over again.
When Stan reached his room, he sat down in front of his computer and smacked his head down on the desk.
"Eight weeks, dude! I can't do anything that requires the use of two hands for eight weeks! I can't play football… I probably can't even play videogames… I mean, I'm not even going to be able to write!" He brooded.
Kyle sat in silence on Stan's bed.
"I'm sorry for making you play basketball with me… If I didn't have to prove Cartman wrong, this would have never happened…"
Kyle's voice was cracking this time.
Stan looked up at his almost crying super best friend and moved next to him on the foot of his bed.
"It's okay, dude…," Stan felt terrible for making Kyle feel like it was his fault. "It's not your fault."
"Yeah it is…," Kyle squeaked,
"No. It's not," this time Stan initiated a hug.
Kyle could feel the coarseness of fiberglass rubbing against the back of his jacket as he returned the embrace.
"Stan?" Kyle asked after a few moments.
"Yeah?" They let go of each other.
"I get to be the first person to sign your cast, right?"
"You don't get to be the first person," Stan got up and walked back to his desk to find a maker, "I'm making you be the first person," he handed Kyle a black permanent marker as both boys chuckled.
He chose the top center of the cast and signed: Your SBF – Kyle and drew a smiley face next to his name.
Stan smiled at him.
"Well, dude… I better get going back home. I'm probably already going to get yelled at for being so late; until I explain what went on, that is," Kyle got up and stopped at the door before he walked out of Stan's room.
"I'll talk to you tomorrow at school, right?"
"Right."