Danny's ankle didn't seem to be getting any better. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse. He was limping more whenever he was tired or had been playing hard. So on Sunday morning, I took him to the doctor's office and she ordered an x-ray which we got this morning. He's fine physically, no fracture or break, but mentally he may be scarred for a while. I may not be able to darken the door of a doctor's office until his third birthday - for his sake and mine.
He screamed and cried at the doctor's office on Sunday morning, especially when the nurse closed the exam room door. On the way home, I bought him some french fries to soothe the trauma. I talked to him yesterday and this morning about going to see a doctor who would take a picture of his ankle with a special camera. We walked into the room, he looked up at the camera and he seemed impressed, not freaked out. As soon as we put him on the table, the fireworks began. He cried and screamed for "Mommy" the whole time despite never being more than a foot from me. When she was done, the radiologist brought over a box of tissues. I wiped my eyes and then his.
Later, when the radiologist delivered the good news, Danny smiled at her and happily showed her his sippy cup. At least he doesn't hold a grudge.
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