I jokingly told Dr. Mehlman yesterday that I thought we suffered from a family wide case of Stockholm Syndrome, and that hip dysplasia was our captor. We are scared of the brace, but perhaps we are more scared to be without the brace.
I think I've realized I wasn't joking.
Yesterday the orthopaedic clinic was packed to the gills. The hospital* recently changed computer systems, which means that until 4 gazillion employees know the new software, all hell can and will regularly break loose. Our part of that hell was spending close to 4 hours in a holding pattern, with tiny 10 minute breaks for an x-ray and a consult with the doctor.
The staff was horrified for us, and I find these circumstances easy to forgive, because, well, we have Stockholm Syndrome. I mean, a normal person would have probably left, right? But we sat there, and drew letter after letter, plied with pretzels, played with toys from the supposed clean toy bin, and waited.
The end result is this. She's out of the brace during the day.
It's time to learn how to walk.
*Meaning every single brick and mortar structure related to a major metropolitan hospital campus, up to and including buildings located 40 odd miles away. So, you know, easy peasy. Half a dozen IT guys should be fine, right?
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