Cast Off

After four weeks and one day, the cast has come off. We'd been counting down the days and getting all fired up for its removal. But before going to the doctor, we had to get a shot of the cast and the crawling that Cally was able to do with the eight pound monstrosity (keep in mind that she only weighs 24 pounds).


The removal went really well. Cally seemed pretty excited to get this thing off:



The loud "saw" made her a little concerned:

But she didn't shed a tear through the entire 25 minutes that it took to get this beast off:




However, as we had been warned to expect, she was really freaked out when it came off. She needed to be held and clung to us like velcro. When we got home, she wanted to be carried and didn't even want to try walking. Our cheerful, fun loving gal was a mess. She didn't want to take a bath (which NEEDED to happen given the skin collection on her legs), didn't want to eat much, and definitely didn't want to use her leg. There was nothing we could do to ease her through the transition back to life without the cast. She said her leg didn't hurt, but I imagine it just felt strange.

24 hours later, Cal was standing, cracking jokes, and learning to walk again. We pulled out the walker wagon from the attic and got back to basics. She wanted to have nothing to do with crawling (which the doctor said she'd probably do for a week) and she was ready to put the feet down and walk. She's still got a ways to go, but she's getting there and she has the will, so she'll find a way to get back running again soon.




Update: This morning, we woke up to a little girl who had walked from her bedroom to our bedside. She's one determined girl.

Whoa Is Me!

So I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. My husband, coparenting partner, houseman, and ski buddy, left to teach a backcountry ski and avalanche course in Idaho on Saturday morning. I was very envious of the skiing he'd get to do in such a gorgeous place, but what I was most jealous of was the uninterrupted nights of sleep he'd get....... I knew I couldn't handle a 5 week old and an invalid 2-year old on my own, so we called in the reinforcements.

Nana and Grandpa were willing to do whatever was needed to help us out. So, they came up on Friday with a car full of home cooked goodies, a lot of patience, their best reading voices, and a great attitude. They welcomed Cally into their bed each morning, reading Curious George and other books over and over again, so that I could get coffee made, Hazen fed, and the day started. They helped us shuttle a car back from the airport and most importantly, they helped me survive a 30 inch snowstorm that surprised all of us. I'd been nagging John about teaching me to use the snowblower, but it just never happened. So, when I woke up to this on Monday morning:

I knew I'd have to figure it out. Fortunately, the snowblower had been given to John by his father, so Art was able to talk me through the start up. With Nana reading to Cally and tending to Hazen, I took charge of the snowblowing and after three separate snowblowing episodes, I got our driveway cleared. I'll admit, I felt pretty empowered and independent...... but I also was sore from using upper body muscles I had never needed to use like that before.

We didn't leave the house on Monday, but eventually, we could have. It felt good not to be stuck or "shut in". So, while many of my colleagues and friends were making turns in the gobs of snow that were falling from the skies, I was feeling sorry for myself about not being able to ski.... until my dear friend Mary called to see if I wanted to join her at Mad River while swapping off Hazen care... and then I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. And what a light it was! It was a feel good, bluebird day and ideal conditions. Plus, I got to ski with three lovely wombats (and some other their offspring) with whom I never get to ski these days and they fought about who would get to hang out with Hazen in the lodge.

On Wednesday, Cally and Hazen's dear Aunt Nif came to help out. She arrived with cousin Will and brought a wonderful attitude and horrible weather. They entertained Cally, cuddled with Hazen, and gave me the opportunity to get out and exercise Zephy.

And it takes a village....... other key players in helping me through my week of single parenthood were the Ganz clan (more on them later) who brought us dinner on Tuesday night, The Harris Plimpton crew who entertained us on Thursday night,

and Uncle James, Aunt Paula, Kesley and Jameson who entertained us on Saturday night.

I couldn't have survived this week without all the aforementioned help. I'd been nervous about my time alone before Cally even hurt hersel, but once that happened I wasn't afraid to ask for help. Fortunately, I've got wonderful friends and family members who could be there for us. That said, I'm not going to lie, I'm counting down the hours until my co-pilot returns!

Our Unsung Hero

One week down, 3-5 to go. It is clear that one person is handling this whole collision of circumstances like a champion. Cally has been nothing short of amazing. She continues to smile often, tell us she loves us out of the blue, and crack jokes. We have been so fortunate to have friends, colleagues, and students help us by reading and playing with Cal, moving and stacking our wood, babysitting, offering to clean our house........ We are so lucky to have such a great community of people in our lives. It helps to have a dynamic daughter who has charmed folks enough to make them want to help out.




That said, there is one player in this family who has sort of taken the back stage but been a key player in this whole charade. Hazen Philip is incredible. Since this whole situation unfolded a week ago, he has rolled with it, brought tons of smiles to his sisters face and kept everything in perspective. Even before the accident a bond was forming:


When Cally came out of anesthesia after her leg was set at the hospital, grumpy as a bear coming out of hibernation too early, there was only one thing that made her smile...... not her mother, her father, her favorite stuffed animal. Nope, none of those things helped, what made her smile at 2:30am with a body cast recently wrapped around her agile little body, was her little brother, whom she'd only known for three weeks.


When doctors or nurses would come in and talk to us, she always wanted to make sure they knew she is a big sister and that her brother's name is Hazen.


When visitors come over, they are so good about making Cally feel special and of their utmost concern, but who can resist a little moment with an infant:




I'm not going to lie, there have been moments, when Hazen is hungry and is crying and Cally needs a book read and is whining and John and I look at each other and wonder how we are going to survive this month or so. But, we've learned to multitask and become number one fans of the Moby wrap. Yep, that's Hazen in the brown contraption on John's chest and Cally in his arms. Before all this happened, John wouldn't have stepped near the Moby wrap-- it seemed too feminine and complicated. That changed when Cally's Orthepedic Surgeon saw me wearing Hazen in the Moby at the hospital and proudly proclaimed that he loves the contraption and wears it all the time with his own 9 month old son. Now there aren't many daytime napping hours that pass without Hazen wrapped as snug as a bug on one of our bodies.


The moments of chaos are rare and most of the time we have nothing to complain about. Here's to the little man who continues to pack on the ounces (he weighed in at 8 lbs and 13 oz the other day) and helps put everything in perspective.


And here's to keeping our life as normal as possible....... like taking a walk down to the mailbox and getting the paper.

If We Could Turn Back Time.......

If I could turn back time, we would have stayed inside all afternoon last Sunday. We would have kept our precious little spirit safe in the house. But we didn't stay inside last Sunday. We decided to go for a quick family ski in the pastures neighboring our house, a loop we've done more times than we can count. It was a bluebird day, but quite cold, so we decided to keep the kids close to our bodies to keep them warm. Hazen was in a Baby Bjorn on my belly and we decided Cally would be warmest if she was in an Ergo pack on her dad's back. We set out singing "Old McDonald", debated what kind of noise a rabbit makes, and talked about Peter Cotton Tail. We all felt better for being outside.

There is one small hill on the loop. In the days leading up to this fated event, the temperatures had gotten into the 50's and then plummeted to the single digits. Much snow had melted, subsequently frozen solid, and a dusting of new snow had sugar coated the terrain. Our neighbors sometimes drive through the snow in the pastures, so there can be some uneven terrain. We quickly talked about taking our skis off and walking down the small hill, but decided against it. I went first and stopped half way down the hill. Having metal edged skis, stopping wasn't very difficult. John and Cally skied past us, Cally with a huge smile on her face, laughing, and John with a clear look of concern. He was going too fast and knew a fall was in his near future. Having true cross country skis without edges, his options for slowing down were limited. Using his best quick judgement, he decided to try to do a modified hockey stop and fell on his butt (concerned about Cally getting thrown forward over his shoulders). Cally's laughing turned to a cry...... not a screaming cry, a sort of muffled sad cry.

We assumed she was just scared from the fall, but realized that there had to be something else going on. We asked her what hurt and she said it was her ankle. We quickly skied the 100 yards home, got her off John's back, brought her to the couch, pealed off her boots, snowsuit, and tights and assessed what was wrong. There was no obvious swelling, but she pointed to her thigh when asked what hurt and wanted nothing to do with putting weight on it. We immediately grabbed the diaper bag, a sling, and put both kids in the car heading directly to the ER in Burlington. Cally sat quietly in the car, not really crying, but not engaging in conversation either..... which is when we both knew something was really, really wrong. Having been a ski patroller and taken children off the mountain who had broken their femur, I knew that the tell tale pain wasn't necessarily as obvious for them. Because they lack the muscular development, the leg doesn't contract and convulse like it would with an adult.

We were admitted immediately into a room in the ER and within 20 minutes X-rays were being taken of Cally's leg. The nurses, doctors and staff could not have been nicer to us. No one ever shamed us for doing what we were doing and they all engaged Cally, making her feel special and of their utmost concern. Within an hour of being at the hospital, an orthapedic doctor had looked at her X-rays and broken the bad news to us. Cally had broken her femur and would need to go to the OR to have it set and place her in a spica cast (aka a body cast-- see photo below). They thought they could get her into the OR by 8pm. Meanwhile, Cally charmed the ER staff and patiently waited without any pain killers. This is a picture of the brave girl in the ER, showing off her brother to the staff.


By 9:30pm, it was clear that she wasn't going to get into the OR anytime soon, so they transferred her to the pediatric ward at the hospital. She was exhausted and would fall asleep, only to jolt herself awake every 20 minutes or so. We tried giving her pain killers, but she refused anything orally. At midnight, the OR finally called, ready to get her down there. She went into the OR at 12:30am. At 1:30am, the attending surgeon came to tell us everything went well and that she had come out of surgery just fine. At 2:30am she was transferred back to the pediatric ward, where we stayed together as a family in her room, John on a reclining chair, Hazen and me on a spare bed.


Hearing that your active, spirited two-year old has to be in a body cast for 4-6 weeks while also caring for a 3 week old infant is not the kind of news any parent wants to get. But it is what it is and you deal, you plow forward and you figure it out. I'm not going to lie, I was overwhelmed, devestated for her, and just wanted to cry. But, you can't. You have to keep it positive, because she is positive...... even when she has a body cast and can't practice jumping, go on "bear hunts", ski, or run fast. You wouldn't believe this girl. Yes, she's out of sorts and maybe a little whinier than usual, but she still has that wonderful smile, spunk, and charm.

And we're figuring it out and realizing that she still can do so much...... Thanks to a fantastic wagon that her Bumpa and Grandma got her for Christmas she can go on rides around the house and even went to ECHO, a children's museum, on Wednesday.


She can eat breakfast at the table.


She can have her toes "painted" by wonderful friends who come over and read to her.

And she can play, in a different sort of way.....




And even bathing is doable:


I know that 4-6 weeks is but a blip in time and feel so fortunate that Cally isn't faced with a permanent disability. I know that this is going to make our family stronger and prove to us that we can do a lot more than we ever thought we could. I know it will make us a little more aware of the risks involved with our active lifestyle.

But I also know that we couldn't do this with any other cast of characters. Cally is nothing short of amazing; Hazen, well, he deserves his own blog entry here because of how amazing he's been; John obviously feels horrible about what happened, but he's doing everything emotionally and physically possible to make this situation better; our friends-- it makes me cry just thinking about how generous they are with their love, time, books, and support; our family, for being willing to come up here and help. I know it could be so much worse, but I also know that there are a lot of really compassionate and wonderful people out there who aren't judging us for what happened and offering the love and support that we need.