What a grim morning.
First, I had to take the Tadpole to see a radiologist for x-rays of her right arm. The childminder sheepishly mentioned last night that she had heard a ‘cracking’ noise when she struggled to prise loose the Tadpole’s hand from the swing at the playground. Tadpole refused to use that arm/hand all evening, so (panicking slightly) I called SOS Medecins, the home visit service. Five minutes of the Dr’s time and 58 euros later I was left none the wiser. There was no swelling, no sign of a dislocated shoulder, she could move her hand but wouldn’t. Doc’s reponse was: ‘it’s probably nothing, but if she’s still acting like this in the morning, use this prescription to get her x-rayed.’
Morning came, with Tadpole still refusing to use her right arm and crying when touched, so off we went to the laboratoire handily located in my street. I had to stand over the Tadpole and attempt to pin her down to the table while she was being x-rayed, so I’ve had a healthy dose of radiation today. It was not a very successful exercise all in all, as with only two hands it was virtually impossible to hold arms, bucking and wriggling body and head all still at once. Add to this to a soundtrack of piercing screams. 200 or so euros later (no bill as yet), radiologist said he couldn’t see anything broken, but if she was still refusing to move her arm on Monday, we should go back for more fun and games.
Is it not possible to get a straight answer from someone in the medical profession these days? Are they so worried we’ll sue if they make a mistake or miss something that they can never commit themselves? Or do they just see anxious new mothers as big fat cash cows to be milked until they run dry?
And if the Tadpole is fine, what on earth is she playing at? I’m starting to wonder if she could be devious enough to realise that if she keeps up her wounded soldier routine she’ll carry on getting unlimited Teletubbies and all her favourite foods…