the slip

Looking at all my immediate family's blogs, I can see that no one has brought up what happened last sunday. Of course, this could be for several reasons, a few could apply to me as well. Therefore there is probably a good reason why I shouldn't write this, but as I and Iguana are the only eye witnesses to speak of, I feel that many people will be wondering exactly what happened.
The end of winter break was dangerously close. So close in fact that I wasn't really thinking about it. But my brother was, constantly reminding me by asking me if I knew what it felt like to know your freedom was about to end or whatever. I just said no. That was the last two years. This year I don't care about going back to school anymore. I'm on top of things now.
So anyways, the end of break means...lice checking!!! No, not for me, for all those elementary school goers that are related to me, such as the PT and Iguana. After two futile attempts made by my mom to get them into the high security compound that is our elementary school (the doors were locked) my mom asked me to drive them over while she made lunch. Yes, I now have a license and can drive without a fully licensed person with me, but this was to be the first time I would be actually doing that. That was a little scary to think about, what with all the snow being on the ground, but I figured I'd be okay. And I was. That was not the issue.
After daringly turning a slightly busy corner to get closer to the school, we all piled out of the car to get inside the school. There are two entrances; stairs that lead into the building, and a ramp. Me and Iguana went up the ramp, and the PT, what with the goofball she is , decided to go around, and ran around to the stairs. "Whatever" I thought "If it makes her happy".
So after lice checking, we started to head out. When we left the building, this time me and Iguana went down the steps, which was the most direct approach to the car, which was right across the street. The PT, of course, ran down the ramp.
This is where things get creepy when I think about it. She was running down the ramp, laughing away, and right when she started running down the slush covered ramp, she stumbled and caught herself. I should have realized right then, and I was actually processing a warning through my brain to tell her when, as she reached the bottom, she slipped backward, landed on her back, and slid down the rest of the ramp on the back of her coat.
She was crying the kind of cry I expected to hear if she had pinched herself or gotten scared (which is what I assumed had happened) so I helped her up with Iguana and we started to head for the car. I was saying things like "don't worry" "it's okay" ect. because at the worst, I figured she had scraped her hand. On our way to the car, an older jewish woman I do not know came over to us.
"Is she okay"
"Yeah she's fine." I said.
"Here I have some stuff for her" the woman said back, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small glass bottle with a gold liquid inside and a dropper.
"Here's some rescue remedey" she said. The PT, of course would never take candy from a stranger and gave a very negative screech.
"Okay, she doesn't want any remedy, what else can I do?" the woman said half chuckling as she walked away. To this day I have no idea what was in that bottle.
So we went back to the car. The PT was still crying as we drove home, which was not something I had expected. I made the usual jokes which usually make her forget about pain, but she did not seem interested.
We got into the house and showed the injury to my mom, who took it much harder than I had. She did the usual "does this hurt" routine with her and ended up putting an ace bandage around her wrist. We asked the PT what happened to her wrist, and she said she didn't remember. I, at this point, thought she might have sprained it breaking her fall on the ground. Iguana was saying something about stretching her muscles. I never quite knew how either was possible. I didn't see her hands or wrists involved at all.
Yet, my mom told me she was almost certain that is was broken, and the PT wouldn't really eat her mac and cheese and was still moaning, so we ended up taking her to the hospital, getting an xray, and discovering that in fact, she had broken her wrist in two places. She will have a cast on for four weeks. This is her right wrist. To me, that sounds like she can't write books, play video games, use computers, eat, and tons of other stuff for four weeks. And she's only six. This is what is haunting me right now. There were so many ways that didn't have to happen.
But I called her tonight and she sounded fine, in fact not really interested in talking to me (she was in the middle of watching "kronks new groove"). She got a white and red striped cat in the hat cast, and she sounded perfectly normal, so I'm feeling much better about the whole thing now. I considered making a get well card and having everyone at the school sign it, but my mom told me she wouldn't know the difference (which is probably true).