Monday Night: I pick Nickolas up from school and he is screaming. I can tell it's him before I even see him around the corner. The ladies said he had been crying for about 15 minutes and that he's constipated because he won't walk and stiffens up. They said he was fine up until then and they saw him in the corner crouching like he needed to "go".
I take him home and he won't walk the rest of the night. He's obviously in pain and Keith runs out and gets some food to help him try to go to the bathroom. He makes it through the night and sleeps great.
Tuesday: Nickolas slept so great I had to wake him up at 7:15 so I could get to work by 8am for a meeting. I get him up, and uh oh, he still won't walk. I feel horrible dropping him off at school and tell them I'm having my grandmother come and get him to keep him and try and get him into the doctor. I get to work and all 3 meetings I found to be very important, didn't happen. I'm overwhelmed and frustrated with work, and feeling guilty that I am not with Nickolas. The doctor wants Nickolas to get an x-ray. I leave work about 3:00 and get him to the x-ray place. He did great. He starting to walk on it a little, but limping a lot. It's hard to watch him try and walk on it.
Wednesday: Get a call for the results and Nickolas has a fractured tibula. We also found a bruise on his left butt cheek. The doctor wants him to see an orthopedic pediatrician. Keith takes him in and he says it is fractured, and if he's limping after a week he'll need a cast. We get him home that night and he's doing so much better. He limps occasionally, but is back to playing and is very active, although the doctor said to try and get him to take it easy.
Needless to say, those 3 days were extremely hard, but I am so thankful Nickolas is doing better. I don't blame the school, I don't think anyone did anything to him, but it's scary to think that something like that happened when we weren't there for him.