Adventures in shoulder dislocation

This morning when Lucas was strapped into his chariot ready to go to daycare, daddy threw his arms up in the air and dislocated his shoulder. (The last time I dislocated it was 13 years ago when I threw my arms up in the air while skiing; the first time was playing volleyball. Note to self: arms by your sides at all times!)

Lucas, who had been extraordinarily whiney all morning, immediately snapped out of it and became extra-cooperative.

D: Lucas, I think I have to go to the hospital.
L: Really? The hospital?

We went indoors to try to call mama, who was at a hockey clinic. (How wrong is that: Dada dislocates his shoulder while mama is playing hockey?!) She was apparently still on the ice so I had to keep calling and I was getting frustrated; I said I might need an ambulance if we couldn't get mama. Lucas chimed in right away: "You could call 991!"

How he knew to call 911 (or 991, as he put it) was a mystery. When Jill and I stopped at daycare to assure Lucas that all was well after Dada's release from the hospital, mama asked the director if they taught them that number. She said no, that usually happens closer to kindergarten. At the end of the day we asked Lucas in the car how he learned it, but he wouldn't answer.

Later in the evening, in a fit of cooperation, he announced that he had learned about 911 from Red Riding Hood -- no! from the Three Little Pigs story. Jill finally figured out that when she tells him the story, the end goes something like this. "...and he huffed and he puffed, but the wolf could not blow down the house made of bricks and collapsed trying. The three little pigs called 911 and an ambulance came and took the wolf away, never to return. The end."

Anyhow, Lucas was a real champ during the whole ordeal while we waited for mama to arrive. Daddy asked him to put on his shoes by himself -- something he'd been fighting about all morning ("I need help!!!")-- but now, in the middle of the crisis, he did it without protesting. (Alas, they ended up on the wrong feet.) He offered me a hug while I sat there contorted on the couch trying to keep my shoulder from hurting, but I had to decline. While we waited, he went over to his new Playmobil hospital toy and took the cast on and off Timmy's arm. When mama arrived, Lucas brought Timmy's doctor along to the car with him.

At dinner that night, we talked about how dada wouldn't be able to do a few things for a couple of days because of his arm.

J: He won't be able to pick you up, and no shoulders [i.e, riding on his shoulders]
L: No I want uppy! That makes me sad.
J: Lucas, it makes daddy sad too.
L: Can you type on the computer?
D: Oh, I probably can as long as I'm careful.
L: You couldn't go swimming?
D: No, probably not for a while.
L: Could you ride an elephant that does tricks?
D & J: [crack up]
L: [smiling] I could do that!

At bedtime Lucas had lots of questions.

L: Why did you grab the chariot? [After my shoulder popped out I must have stooped down to lean on it while I was trying to figure out what had happened]
D: I think I was trying to steady myself because my arm hurt a lot.
L: Why did you go "hoo-hoo-hoo"? [he was pretending to hyperventilate here]
D: Well it really hurt when my shoulder came out.
L: Why did you say '#$%&$ ambulance'?"

This family blog cannot report the actual f-word I said in the midst of the chaos, flawed mortal that I am.