Fear at 5 months…

Posted On June 23, 2020

It was going to happen… eventually. The dreaded trip to the minor injuries clinic.

With 4 boys we always expected that the minor injuries clinic would become somewhat of a second home.

Previously a trip to the clinic was a major inconvenience that should be avoided at all costs. Often to the extent that I tried to convince myself, and the suffering child that an injury could easily be fixed by going to sleep. Everything would be alright in the morning – trust me!

When I was young, at an ice skating party, I fell and hurt my arm. My father didn’t consider it a hospital worthy trip, however my mother insisted. Yes, it was broken, but now as a father myself I can sympathise with my fathers reaction.

Today my eldest son Jojo came home; he had been on a trip with his school and had fallen in the river. His teacher had pre-warned me that he should see a doctor. My initial reaction… it’s an inconvenience, it’ll be OK!

A slightly forlorn child walks down the path to the house. His finger is clearly swollen and slightly blue. Thankfully a friend has come to help me at home and she tells me not to worry, and to go. I engage my autopilot, finish preparing dinner for the other kids and drive said son to minor injuries.

Shit, my phone has 4% battery. Nevermind, it’s not important.

Did I mention 5 months? Today is five months since my life changed irreparably. It is also the first time I have been to the minor injuries clinic since the day Duggi was admitted to hospital. The whole horrible ordeal started in minor injuries (room 3) before they strongly recommended I drove her to the emergency room.

I wasn’t afraid taking Jojo to the clinic, but I was fearful of the place itself. It’s the front door to the medical system, a maze that is often hard to navigate and one you can get stuck in for a period of time – or never leave!

Jojo had his X-ray. It was dislocated.

Please not room 3, please! The doctor goes towards room 3, he’s surprised that it’s occupied and to my relief walks us into room 4. A small poky room with splashes of white plaster all over the floor and the walls. A disgraceful place to treat a patient, but at least it wasn’t room 3.

The doctor informs Jojo that he needs to pull the finger back into place. He said that there are no orthopedic doctors available and if we prefer an orthopedic doctor we should go to the emergency room. NO. NO. NO. I answered without consulting Jojo. NO HOSPITALS.

Jojo meekly agreed. I then explained the options to him again, he agreed to stay. He was afraid of the pain, but the doctor injected local anaesthetic into his finger.

One swift pull, a bandage, another X-ray, and we were on our way home within 2 hours.

Phone registers one percentage, but gives up the ghost on the drive home.