He's been counting down the sleeps, and today was the day. He told me that when the roll is called at school in the morning he's been answering with [x] more days till my plaster comes off! instead of here or present. Today he told me he said it's today! when his name was called.
He said the saw they used to take the cast off was not so much tickly as buzzy. During the sawing he made a sort of ahh noise so that he could hear the vibrations through his voice. He also kept chatting away to the technician forgetting that there was a loud saw and they both had headphones on so no-one could hear anything. Then he sat up slowly and you could see he felt most peculiar. His arm felt light and weird. We had to go from the plaster room to the x-ray ward, and he insisted he had to walk at snail's pace because of his funny feeling arm.
Then we saw the orthopaedic doctor who was training a student doctor, so I think we got to hear a lot more information that normal. Like for instance that if he'd been ordering the cast he would have moved the plate at the end of the bone over a bit, via manipulation. Hmm. But he says the banana shaped wrist will straighten itself out anyway over the next six months. When he asked Cherub to move his wrist Cherub said I can't. The doctor said, in a voice that brooked no argument, Try. So Cherub did. It's all good.
We kept the cast as a souvenir, but we be scrubbed off the scurfy dead skin at bathtime.
The inside of his hand was filthy! He's off sport for another 4 weeks, but he's allowed to swim.
For ANZAC Day this is so beautiful and tender
12 hours ago