The Problem with China Dolls

Growing up with a little sister with brittle bones was difficult to say the least. 

I was the big sister and I wanted to do all the cool things that big sisters got to do.  I wanted to hold my sister, pick her up, change her diaper, etc.  That wasn’t possible though.  My parents were still trying to figure things out with her.  They couldn’t teach me how to handle her, if they had yet to perfect the process.  Over time, they learned and I was finally able to pursue my big sister role.  I knew I had to be careful in holding her and moving her.  One wrong move and she could get hurt.  I was so proud of myself for not breaking her… until… oops!  I honestly don’t remember how I broke her, or what I broke, but it happened.  She forgave me quickly, but she NEVER forgot and she would remind me of it from time to time.  I know one thing, I didn’t break her femur.  If I broke her femur, I would NOT forget it! 

You can see both legs are wrapped.

She did, however, break her femur (if you’re not familiar with bones, the femur is the largest bone in the body) a handful of times.  When she broke her femur it was so painful!  My mom was resilient when it came to caring for Miranda’s broken bones.  Due to the nature of her bones, they couldn’t put a cast on her breaks, they could only wrap them for stability.  After the doctor showed my mom how to wrap her breaks, and knowing that was the only treatment, mom would simply wrap the break instead of transporting her to the hospital or doctor.  For the first half of her life, she was given ibuprofen and Tylenol with codeine to help with the pain.  Those medications aren’t very effective with a femur break and it often left Miranda screaming and crying in pain and my mother and I praying for the pain to subside long enough for her to get some rest.  “Praise God, Praise God, Praise God” was our motto during those difficult times.  Miranda would often say that phrase over and over while mom cared for her.