Well, we got through the five weeks of being in a splint/cast. We had to go back to the orthopedist the week before Christmas to have the pins removed from the surgery, and it went about as horribly as I expected. They had told us ahead of time that he would not be anesthetized for this, since it was quick and as simple as the doctor pulling out the pins that stuck roughly a centimeter out of his arm. Except when dealing with a person who panics when physical autonomy is taken away, there is nothing simple about it. Each time the doctor went to touch the pins or got too close to them, Ninja would scream bloody murder in a pitch that my mind would correlate with Civil War battlefield amputations or shark attacks. He was so afraid of the unknown that his mind was utterly stuck on keeping everyone away from pulling those pins out at all cost. We tried asking, telling, pleading, bribing, logic, and reason to no avail, for an hour. There were literally no other options for removing them, but that was beyond the scope of what he could grasp. Eventually his father had to hold him down while the doctor strong armed him to keep him still with one arm while removing the pins with his free hand. The boy was screaming and crying the entire time, it was awful, and I can only imagine what medieval torture those in the waiting area must have been picturing.
I was surprised later that evening when the exhaustion of the whole experience did not lead him to fall asleep right away, assuming he would have been spent. But no. Processing any sort of trauma is the same as how he processes anything else, re-creation through play. He had to set up an x-ray area of his room and remove pins from a couple of stuffies. At some point his beloved arctic fox Fluffy passed away, and he was distraught and crying real tears. I asked him how she died, and it turns out that Fluffy the ice hockey playing arctic fox crashed through the boards during a hockey game and collided with a spectator who was eating something she was allergic to, resulting in a tapeworm that killed her. Obviously.
I told him all was not lost, and that we should try using a (imaginary, lest anyone think we are crazy) defibrillator to restart her heart. He was adamant that it would not work, but asked a few questions about defibrillators and how they work, before asking if anyone used one on Jimothy Jones. No matter how many times I correct him, the boy cannot remember the correct name of Jacoby Jones (RIP), a fan favorite who played for the Baltimore Ravens a decade ago, and tragically died in his sleep last summer. So that led to a discussion about Jones and his contributions to the Ravens Super Bowl run after the 2012 season, most notably the Mile High Miracle play in Denver that was instrumental in propelling the team to the AFC Championship game. I got out my phone and showed him YouTube clips of the legendary play, which cheered him up considerably. So much so that enough magic was mustered (from where, I have no idea) to bring Fluffy back to life.
So to summarize our pin removal experience, we spent an hour in the doctors office screaming before and during pin removal, only to come home and recreate the charged experience with stuffies. Then the arctic fox who died via tapeworm from a food allergen from a hockey crash came back to life because a well loved athlete made an amazing reception 12 years ago.
Some kids are comforted by things like ice cream. What’s that like?
Comments