Fragile

April

You were a silly little girl with a passionate personality. Loving, outspoken and extremely intelligent. At 5 years old, you were smarter than children in the 6th grade. Since kids with OI were extremely limited with activities they could participate in, you spent most of your time reading and on the Internet. You told us the most random facts because it's what you'd retained whenever you read.

"Mommy, can we have chicken strips for dinner?" You asked giddily, pulling yourself up onto a chair.

"Careful," I warned for the 1 millionth time, "Daddy's bringing home Chinese tonight because he worked late. You like wonton soup, don't you?"

You stuck out your tongue and made a face. "Yucky. Are there any spring rolls?"

I smiled. "You bet!"

"Spring rolls are a traditional Chinese snack made with a thin, round dough sheet." You told me, pulling on the elastic that kept your braid in place. "Cool, right?"

"Super cool! Where'd you read that fact?" I asked her as grabbed some cutlery from the cupboard. "Fold the napkins for me?"

You carefully tore off three napkins from the roll and, very diligently, folded them into triangles. "I found it in a cultural cuisine book." You said, fiddling with the napkin, "But liked the chapter about Australian food better. Did you know that 22.7 million jars of Vegemite are manufactured every year? that's 235 jars in a minute!"

I laughed slightly. "Should we get you a book about Australian culture for Christmas?"

You shrugged and slid the napkins to each plate. "Maybe. But I might like something else by then. It's only October 1st!"

I poured water into your cup and sparkling water into mine and your fathers. Just as I was setting out some forks, Jackson walked through the door, arms full of Chinese food and his own bags.

"Daddy!" You cried, jumping off of the chair. Forgetting to be careful, you ran towards him, your socks sliding across the hardwood floors. You lost your balance, gliding across the room and falling forward. Your left arm caught your fall, making the all too familiar sound: crack! The sclera of your eyes flashed the same vibrant blue they always did when you broke something and you sat up, sitting on your knees.

"Daddy, I'm okay." But even though you said you were fine, your arm spoke other words.

Delicately, Jackson picked you up and cradled you as if you were a baby. He draped his coat on top of you and I grabbed the car keys out of the pocket. We took the elevator down our apartment and sat you in your car seat. I sat in the back with you as your father drove back to where he'd just come from. We entered the emergency room door of Grey + Sloan Memorial and walked up to the desk. Usually, it would be me who'd take the trauma cases in the E.R. , but I couldn't when I was on the other side of the equation. Owen rushed up to us, took one look and paged Callie and Alex. We'd been here enough that everybody in the E.R. Knew the drill.

"You really don't have to page Alex down here, Hunt." Jackson said, setting you down gently on the gurney.

"I know, but protocol states that if she's under 18, someone from Peds has got to be down here."

Just as quickly as he had said it, Callie and Alex showed up from behind the curtain.

"Where does it hurt this time sweetie?" Callie asked you, handing you a dinosaur sticker. With your dominant hand, you peeled it off and stuck it to your shirt.

"My arm." Callie took one look and turned to Karev.

"X-Ray, page me when you've got the results. The usual."

X-ray didn't take long. In 45 minutes, we were back in the E.R. Callie was wrapping it in a bright green cast, as you requested, to match your dinosaur sticker.

"I didn't get my spring roll." You said suddenly, looking up at Callie. "We were having spring rolls tonight."

"Well," she smiled, pulling off her gloves, "you get to go home and have as many spring rolls as you want because I'm all done! See you later, Harriet." She handed you a purple lollipop (they spoilt you rotten) and discharged us.

We drove home, you falling asleep in the backseat. You never did get your spring rolls.