Easter – A Father’s Sacrifice
We were on the snow and life was good. Our kids, who had learned to ski, were now learning to snowboard.
Shay, our son, who is now fairly accomplished on the snowboard, was 10. Gabby, our youngest, came over to me at the bottom of the snow bunny hill, and said, “Shay fell and hurt himself.”
When we got him to the hospital clinic there in Truckee, we found out that he had broken his wrist in two places, both the radius and ulna. Fortunately the doctor was world-renowned and had worked on and repaired Olympic skiers. In other words, he knew what he was doing.
After we x-rayed the damage, he had me walk in with he and Shay into a room while our family sat in the waiting area. He said we could wait and have it set back in Sacramento but his concern was that it might not heal properly.
His recommendation? For him to grab a hold of the wrist and attempt to “snap” the bones back in place so when they healed they would do so correctly. If not, Shay might always have problems due to improper healing. He happened to play baseball and that was extra cause for concern that the wrist would not heal properly.
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