Lessons from the ER: Foreign Objects

Though this lesson was not learned in the ER, it is a part of a continuing series of things I’ve learned from my son’s broken arm.  You can read other lessons HERE and HERE.      

Last week at our doctor’s visit to check on the healing of Cade’s arm, a foreign object was revealed.  Something that should not have been there, most definitely was.  A bright metal object glared at us from the dull pictures of his bones.  Turns out the little guy had stuck a coin (actually a Thai baht from Matt’s recent trip) down his cast, and it was lodged quite tightly against his skin.   The doctor immediately began making preparations to cut off the current-coin-holding cast and to replace it with a brand new one.  As the bill for this karate-move-gone-bad continues to climb higher, Matt questioned if it was even necessary to remove the coin.  The doctor responded with a resounding, no-other-option “yes.”  Apparently, when the skin is tightly bound as it is when casted, a foreign object can cause the skin to fester, to become infected, and to harbor damaging bacteria. 

And, so, off came the cast,

out came the coin,

on went the second cast, and

up went our medical bill.

And, once again, I was struck by an adut life-reality in watching my child’s physical one.  When foriegn objects are introduced into places they shouldn’t be, destruction happens.  Foriegn objects like:

a third person in your marriage,

an out-of-control credit card into your finances,

a root of bitterness into a relationship,

an addiction into your daily routine,

gossip in your office breakroom.

When something that shouldn’t be there is there anyway,  it’s presence can prevent the healing process from taking place.  Like a coin that corrodes the skin in a casted arm, a foriegn object can cause great damage if left alone too long.

And, just like in Cade’s story, the only healthy solution is to cut it out, throw it away, and start fresh again.  Because, in the long run, healthy skin on an arm is much more important than the money, effort, and hassle it takes to get rid of that piece of metal in the first place.