This week for the third time in about 6 months, Vanessa dislocated her elbow. Let me put it this way…its not a fun time in our house when it happens. She immediately goes into shock – elevated body temperature, sweats, glassy eyed – not including, the screaming she does for the next hour. Her arm goes completely limp, which given that she if left-arm/hand dominate and lets it just hang there, something is obviously wrong with it. She doesn’t have to be swinging from the trees to make this joyous event happen.
Because this has been a frequent event in Vanessa’s life lately, her primary doctor wanted her arm to be checked out by an Orthopedic. So we had the pleasure of meeting Dr Orthopedic…who had some of the worst bedside friendly manner I’ve met in a long time. I’m not into small talk with doctors, in fact I really don’t even like them (no offence to any of our doctor friends/family), but a “Hi”, “Hello”, or even just an acknowledgment of my presence would have been nice. He walks in and grabs her arm and asks what’s wrong with it. Well, if I knew, do you think I’d spend my free time visiting you? I wanted to take a drive across town - What’s another 50 miles on my car this week? I wish I said these things, but of course I didn’t. She was gingerly moving her arm, as now it had popped back into place. He was 100% confidant that it was her elbow, because she tried to squirm away when he grabbed her arm, he said. No she just doesn’t like you. And then he got up and walked out of the room – no “Have a nice day”, “Thanks for visiting”, or “Any questions”. Just up and left us sitting there with the door wide open. I took that as a sign that we were finished.