Zoe was showing me a beautiful dance Tuesday morning. When she went to twirl, her foot didn’t follow and she fell on the floor. She complained a little about the pain but then got up and kept going. However, she continued to mention here and there that it was hurting pretty bad. By the evening, she said it was hurting worse. We sent her on to bed thinking she just bruised it badly.

In the morning, she woke up to a nice tennis ball size swollen ankle. I thought that it was just a sprain and started icing it and keeping her from running like a wild child through the house. It still wasn’t down by the evening so we wrapped it up and went to church. I stopped her pediatrician in the hall, told her what was going on and asked if she could look at it to see if she needed an x-ray. Sure enough, she said yes.

Where Zoe is complaining about the pain is where a growth plate is and a typical place to get a stress fracture. Dr. B wrote a script for an x-ray for the morning.

I took her in for the x-ray this morning and it didn’t show any fractures at this point. Dr. B gave orders to ice it and medicate and elevate until the swelling goes down. If it doesn’t improve by Monday, we’ll call her and then she’ll send Zoe on to orthopedics.

All this and then Josiah woke up this morning with a low grade temp. He’s acting generally yucky and so now they are all piled up on the couch for our sick day.

And…on the way home, God watched over us. Or I should say watched over a driver. He had a small truck and decided to cross over four lanes to turn onto the interstate. However, I was in the first lane he wanted to cross over and he almost ran into the side of the van. I looked and swerved just in time and caught a look of either complete surprise (because it’s hard to see a big red van passing you) or complete disgust (because I was in his lane). I didn’t slow down to confirm the look. I realized later that we would have been okay, but the driver of the truck would have been in a world of hurt…thanks to our big van.