It was cast removal day for my daughter. She had broken her wrist about four weeks ago. Now it was time to get it off.
"Mom, my friends at school said they use a chainsaw to get it off. They said my arm is going to bleed."
"That's not true."
"Yes it is. My best friend said so. And she doesn't lie."
"Do you really think they're going to hurt you as they take off your cast?"
We drove to the doctor's office.
"I don't want to go in."
"Okay. No drama," I said. "Let's just go in, get this done, and go home."
Of course there was drama.
The nurse came in, and my daughter made a fuss. "Are you going to use a chainsaw?"
"My friend said you will cut my arm."
"No. I will not cut your arm. But I might tickle it."
My daughter made a face.
Then the saw came out. It was an itty bitty rotary saw. And it made a lot of noise.
My daughter looked petrified.
But in no time at all, the cast was removed.
"Now was that so bad?" the nurse asked.
Then the x-rays were taken. Unfortunately, the break hadn't quite healed.
"No! I'm not wearing another cast!"