{Our first broken arm}

After Ashlee's first night of Young Womens, we were sitting around discussing how it went.  Suddenly, she jumped up off the couch to do a cartwheel, like she'd done a million times before.  This time she let out a huge scream followed by "I broke my arm", like she'd also done a million times before.  Only this time, I looked over and yep, she'd really broken her arm.  

I may have panicked. 

Luckily, her dad has the ability to remain calm and collected.  He scooped her up, and off we went to Madison Memorial Hospital.   We found it rather amusing when everyone kept referring to it as a "possible broken arm".  

Uh, right.  

She was SUCH a trooper!  She made a few faces and winced a few times, but never shed a single tear beyond the initial scream.  She suffered a green fracture of her right ulna which was bending the radius.  They had to put an IV in, give her a dose of Demoral and/or something else to aid with memory loss, bend it back into place (that was hard for this mama to watch) and then cast it.  While under the influence of drugs, she said some of the funniest things I've ever heard, all random.  (Italics indicate questions we asked her)

"This is my favorite part.  Goodnight.  Whoa, how did you guys get here?  Is Justin home?  What's so funny?  What is your cats name?  Toby.  What is your cats nickname?  Buttflake.  When I close my eyes, I see butterflies.  I never want this to wear off.  I love it.  I see a painting of a horse.  Tell us how you broke your arm.  I fell off a ladder.  Is slang a slang word?  I see a bottle of spray paint.  This cast is heavy.  It's like a thousand pounds of madness.  This feels awesome.  I don't recall them putting this on me.  I saw a picture in my head and it turned pink and it said something but I could read it and I was like, baby, baby baby, oh.  What the heck?  Those people are ugly.  When I close my eyes, there's a field with children frolicking.  You think it's a joke, well you're wrong.  I don't wanna relax, I wanna do cartwheels off the couch.  My blood is leaving.  Bye (waves).  (when they removed the IV and the tape) My arm hairs are gone.  They were good friends.  Bend your arm.  You want me to show my muscles, too?  Look at these guns.

We laughed and laughed.  Arilee laughed so hard we had to make her leave the room at times.  We got home that night a little after midnight.

She's been a trooper since, with only a few (or a lot) of moments of unbearableness.  We could definitely tell when it was time for more pain medication.   She likes to remind us often that she has a broken arm and can't do this or that, especially when it's something she doesn't want to do, which is pretty much all the time.  The rest of the time, she is her usual angelic self.

I'm a little worried about sending her to school, how she will get from class to class with her books, open her locker, carry her lunch tray, etc.  But, that's what mom's do.  Worry.   She'll be fine, I'm sure.

We're so proud of how well she's done.