The Break

Hey. This is Ryan. If the summer keeps goin' the way it's goin', all four of my kids will have had some sort of tragic accident.

Little Emma fell off of the trampoline last night and broke her arm. It was very traumatic.

I was working on folding and putting away the three-day, six-foot pile of laundry when I heard another scream from the backyard, "I BROKE MY ARM!"

Because I know my kids inherited the drama queen gene (from their mother, I'm sure of it!), I sauntered over to the back door when Ally the Narrator sprinted in. "DAD, EMMA REALLY BROKE HER ARM. SHE REALLY DID AND IT'S REAL THIS TIME!" As if there had been fake times when Emma broke her arm. (She's our first kid to break a bone, believe it or not.)

Because 300 of the neighbor kids were in our backyard, too, there was a unified chorus of street urchins to verify The Narrator's report. I scanned the crowd and saw Emma still yelling and crying. As she walked toward me, I instantly knew it was broken as well. She looked like she had a teen-sized bicep and she flapped her limp right arm up and down with the left hand as she wailed, "I don't want a broken arm! See, it's broken! It's BROKEN!"

The Narrator stepped up and admitted through tears, "I didn't mean to push her off!" This led to me to shove her through the door and yell, "YOU PUSHED HER OFF THE TRAMP?! GET IN YOUR ROOM AND I'LL DEAL WITH YOU LATER."

I had other things to deal with, mainly all the kids were in their swimsuits because we had put the sprinkler under the tramp. I was undressing Emma as two of our neighbors dropped by to help me. They are wonderful, but my feelings of inadequacy resurfaced when they asked what they could do. I mumbled, "Um, can you take Ally and Luke?" since Clark was with Lisha at Enrichment Night. The one neighbor said, "No problem" and the other neighbor was talking on her cell phone to her mother, an EMT. She offered advice and I ignored her. I know she meant well, but besides my TV medical experience (which I've already talked about), all my First Aid Merit Badge skills rushed back to my mind.

Then, remembering Lisha, I dialed her number. "Yes?" she answered.

"Um, we have to go to the hospital. Emma broke her arm."

"Really?"

"Really, really," I replied. That was the conversation. You gotta love a husband and wife's ESP after nine years of marriage. Unfortunately, this was the first activity she was in charge of since being put in as Relief Society 2nd Counselor. She was going to have to delegate. I hung up and focused back to getting Emma's arm through the pink shirt I had found for her.

Because the 300 neighborhood kids had 300 big mouths, word spread across the block like wildfire. Pretty soon our yard was full of gawkers and random people shouting suggestions like, "Don't move her arm!" and "Wiggle her fingers!" I waved to them like some kind of actor on a stage, trying to dismiss the crowd, but no one moved. It was then I noticed Emma's face had gone ashen white. She was going into shock. I wrapped her in her blanket and left through the crowd.

A quick stop to pick up Lisha and we were on our way. Emma was whimpering pretty good now so Lish stroked her hair in an effort to calm her down. We arrived at the emergency room and prepared to wait. Our friend, Edwin, is a doctor there, but he was at a family reunion. From hanging out with him, we knew this ER was a good one as far as wait time went, so I knew it wouldn't be too long. It was instantaneous. A nurse came out and took Emma and me into a side room to do vitals, etc., while Lish filled out the paperwork.

X-rays, pain meds, IV's - all this was a blur because Emma was mostly interested in watching "Phineas and Ferb" on Disney Channel (we'd gotten rid of satellite to discourage couch-potatoism during the summer and to alleviate one more monthly bill).

They ended up knocking her out while they set the bone and applied the splint. That was probably the hardest thing to watch. She just drifted asleep, midsentence. Then, she moaned a little when they set the bone and moved her arm. That was hard, too, knowing she could feel the pain on some level though unconscious.

The best part for Emma - besides "Phineas and Ferb" - was the free teddy bear provided with her health care. She was very brave and we are very proud of her. She got home around 10:30 p.m. and fell right asleep.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. As a result from our investigation as to how the accident really happened - Emma wasn't pushed. All of the kids collaborated the same story as this: Emma slipped on the slick tramp mat, fell and hit her arm on the bar and fell off. That's the story and they're sticking to it. I apologized to Ally and told her she was off the hook.

So, will we get rid of the trampoline now? No. Accidents happen. If anything, this served as a proper warning to the rest of the neighborhood kids. It was pretty traumatic just to witness it. When asked last night if they wanted to jump on the trampoline, our twin neighbor boys just shook their heads and buried their faces into their mother's lap.

What's your worst trampoline story? Reeeaaaddyyyy .... POST!