Or any other color toe. |
This is BelSpouse's standard diagnosis for everything. Not "broken toe," per se, but "worst thing I can possibly think of based on my gut reaction to minimal information." I try to avoid telling him when I have pre-menstrual cramps, because he typically wants to schedule an appendectomy as soon as possible. In this case, PDaughter reported that she had banged her toe, and it hurt, and it was hard to walk. That could have meant "broken toe." It also could have meant she had been slamming margaritas all afternoon. Unlikely, but on the other hand, her father had her halfway to gangrene and amputation already.
There was only one way to discern the truth, and that was to actually look at the toe. Which I'm sure BelSpouse would have gotten around to, you know, eventually. After a couple more tragic soliloquies.
Hey, Olivier, that's not even her toe. |
Meanwhile, BelSpouse was standing at the door with our insurance card in one hand and a DNR order in the other. I gave him a silent Look of Death and calmly suggested we try putting ice on the toe to relieve the swelling. Reluctantly he set down his bone saw and agreed.
He keeps it handy, because you never know when somebody might get a slight headache. |
I'm satisfied that she just gave herself a good stinger, at most a mild sprain. Today I stayed home with her because she's still hobbling and was worried about getting around from class to class. We've been keeping her foot elevated and applying more ice, and I think by tomorrow she'll be limping but mobile. She's mostly bummed that she can't play Wii Sports for a few days.
BelSpouse has decided to follow my lead on the diagnosis. He understands that it's parents' responsibility to be calm, supportive, and reassuring when their child suffers an injury. He also understands that I will inflict actual pain on him if he starts making up dire consequences and airing them in front of PDaughter. Finally, I think he suspects that I know where he keeps the bone saw and how to use it.
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