Little known facts about breaking your kneecap

Last August, my wife provided material for a post on little known facts about breaking your ankle. As implied in my recent post, where my 9-year old observed that his brother now lives on the couch, my older son has provided us with additional bone-breaking insights:

• If you tell a doctor your son has probably broken his kneecap, they will nod indulgently, say, “That’s actually very difficult to do…” , examine the x-ray, and then say incredulously, “Well I’ll be…”
• You can break your kneecap without actually landing on it or even whacking it against something. It is enough to simply kick out really hard with the other leg in such a way that your whole body twists in just the wrong direction, wrenching your supporting leg’s patella from the front (where it belongs), to the side (where it does not).
• A dislocated patella can then snap back into place with such force that it actually breaks the bone into three or more pieces, most of them remaining on the wrong side of your leg from where they belong.
• You can get a lot of sympathy from 14 year old girls from telling a story like this.
• If you really really really want to miss a high adventure camp in June, breaking your kneecap in May will do the trick. You might even get cookies from your devoted Scout leader in the bargain!
• Ditto for final exams. (But they’ll be back… and without cookies.)
• You can sleepwalk with a broken kneecap and not realize it until you are sitting in a chair 10 feet from where you started, in excruciating pain.
• If your dad is asleep when you sleepwalk on your broken kneecap, he might not awake until you have been yelling for a good while. (You may think it’s been an hour, but probably not. Still…)
• The previous trick is a really good way to get extra ice cream, video game time, or whatever else you desire from your guilt-ridden father.
• After such an incident, a young man may still turn down codeine in favor of ibuprofin, because he “doesn’t like the way it makes him feel,” this spite of an anxious father’s urging. (I have many fears, but my son giving in to peer pressure on drugs is not one of them.)

Matthew is scheduled for surgery on Friday, so I will probably be missing Cameron and company’s all-day training on visual design. (Have we mentioned before the incredible internal training opportunities we’ve had, especially recently? One of the best things about working here.) I am really bummed about missing this, but what can you do? Father First (especially if you don’t hear your son screaming in pain in the middle of the night and you still need to earn back some points!)

posted by ted on Tuesday, May 27, 2008 · 2 comments

Little known facts about breaking your ankle

The following little known facts were discovered by my wife today, when she broke her ankle (really):

• You can break your ankle while attempting to dismount a full-size van.
• The reason the side without the break is swollen has to do with ligaments… lots of torn ligaments.
• You can lie flat on your back fairly comfortably in a parking lot for at least 30 minutes, as long as your 14-year old fetches you a quilt to lie down on.
• Frozen corn makes a great ice pack. (Thank you Un-named Lady!)
• You can safely double every estimate of how long something will take in an emergency room.
• A woman can smile and make small talk with the attendant who is forcing her ankle into a right angle while setting a cast. (She might dig her nails into your arm the very smallest bit, but overall, you will be awed by her tolerance for pain and dogged determination to remain cheerful in a situation that would probably have her husband swearing like a sailor or crying like a baby. Or both.)
• Mormons can take Lortab.
• Thanks to our friends in the Utah Legislature, an injury sustained while exiting your car cannot be paid for by medical insurance; you must submit it as an automobile accident. Seriously. (Here’s looking forward to rate increases…)
• On the other hand, if you break your ankle in Utah, you can expect 5 casseroles, two loaves of home-baked bread, and a babysitter all on your front porch before you can get home from the hospital, thanks to friendly neighbors and church support. (OK, that’s an exaggeration, but only a little one. We have meals lined up for a week and babysitting for a day, with the offer of more if we need it.)

Credit: This post inspired by my wife’s friend, who debated whether she should scrapbook about her husband’s appendectomy. (She did.)

Also see a related article on breaking your kneecap, with material provided by my 14 year old son.

posted by ted on Monday, Aug 20, 2007