Suckers & Splints

As a parent of a boy you just know, almost from the moment they are born, that there will be bumps, bruises and broken bones — it’s just a matter of when. Last year we took Jackson to the Stryder races at the BMX track and he absolutely loved it. So there wasn’t any question about going again this summer. 

Races are on Wednesday and I chose to stay behind and get caught up on some work. When they got home all seemed fairly normal for an almost three year old, with a small report from Jackson that he crashed and a bit of road rash on his chest — from his handle bars. 

After the house had quieted down, Brian gave the full report which started with Jackson taking his practice laps faster than he had ever gone on the track yet. Then on about his third practice lap he was still going full speed when he hit an unexpected obstacle — a hose, drug across the track to water down the last corner on the big track. Over the handle bars he went, landing on his right wrist. 

But all seemed fine. He went on to ride his bike in a couple races before choosing to wander off and miss his last race. Brian checked his range of motion the following day and it didn’t even seem like he was in much pain the next few days, unless he applied pressure. We just assumed it was a bad sprang and needed time to heal.

Then Saturday rolled around and he woke up crying that his arm hurt. We went to the store for party stuff when a trip on his shoes seemed more painful than necessary and because moms are not made with x-ray vision, I decided to take him in and have it looked at. 

Sure enough, the doc showed us the pictures of his bones and explained that the little bump you see above is what they call a buckle fracture. She said that in young kids their bones flex more so than break, just like a green branch would bend but not break. Jackson was fitted with a brace instead of a cast, he collected his sucker, and we were on our way with instructions to keep the brace on for four weeks. 

The very next day he had taken it off and threw it in the garbage. Boys will be boys.