Not your mother’s plaster of paris. Musing on why every child wants a cast.
Other than leaving my keys in my car, yesterday I was here.
He was getting a cast on his wrist.
And being the mom-with-a-blog that I am, I started taking photographs through the high-powered lens of my iPhone.
The nurse wasn’t phased. “People do it all the time,” she said.
But are all these people mega-intuitive blogging journalists?
As I watched her wrap his arm, I got to thinking…how many times did I wish I would fall out of a tree?
Or snapped by the misplaced rock of a rocking chair or horribly wrenched out of socket by a riotous game of Pong.
But no.
I never had the pleasure of seeing a brand new white cast turn the color of the Mississippi River or be the center of attention at school for about 3 hours. And have everyone including the cutest guy in 5th grade sign my arm.
(I can’t name names anymore because people who knew me in 5th grade might read these things. They would stop and think…She thought he was cute?)
Whomever you might be thinking I did, no I didn’t.
They don’t make them out of plaster anymore. They fashion them out of fiberglass. That’s what’s up with all the cool colors.
And that’s why they are all bumpy and almost impossible to sign.
It was an incredibly un-mysterious process.
So I vicarious got to experience a cast on my arm.
They still can’t get wet. Though aren’t surfboards made out of fiberglass?
Guess that will have to remain one of life’s question marks.
Did you ever have a cast?
Did you ever want one?
Not only have I never had a cast, but neither has my husband or my son or my daughter! And YES of course I wanted one — for all the reasons you said you wanted one. Still, I’m a huge wimp and wonder: didn’t it hurt when he broke his wrist? DID he fall out of a tree?
No Julia, it was a football injury. It might just be a severe sprain. There’s a little bone in the hand/wrist that if broken won’t should up in an X-ray — it swelled up like a catcher’s mitt. So to give him more security when playing they put it in a cast.