It was about 7:30 PM and my daughter was riding her bike quickly down the cul-de-sac toward our house. Then it happened. I saw her fly over her handlebars and slam into the ground. The bike landed on top of her. I've never heard her scream the way she did.
My heart racing, I ran over to her. She was in a lot of pain. I could see that her leg was all bloody too.
I brought her into the house and calmed her down. I iced her arm and cleaned her wounds. After a half hour, I looked at the arm and wrist. It didn't look right at all. Of course it was swollen, but it also looked a little crooked. I decided to take her into the emergency room.
Of course a severe thunderstorm was on its way. The evening sky looked ominous as streaks of lightening flashed across it.
We got out of the car as the storm hit. The rain pelted us as we made our way into the building.
Battered and broken, my daughter waited.
Three hours later, we learned that my daughter had indeed broken her wrist.
It was midnight by the time we finally got out of there. The staff was very nice, but my gosh, what a long night!