I am happy to report (and thank you to all who have inquired) that it has been almost a week since David surrendered his splint. Okay, so perhaps “surrendered” is not the correct word, as he certainly did not give it up willingly but rather to abide by the terms of the treaty that had been delicately negotiated with his mother. (As an aside, I am beginning to believe that if a career at Target does not work out, perhaps David can fall back on diplomatic work.)
So, here is the story. Last Saturday morning, David wanted to go to the bank and ride the elevator, which he considers a treat and he is usually willing to work for it. I told him that we could go, but as part of the Dodd-Frank Wall Street Reform and Financial Consumer Protection Act, he would not be allowed to wear the black splint into the bank. (Yes, I am sure it is there in the fine print, plus why should I take the blame for something that I can so easily blame on someone else?)
Anyway, David agreed to relinquish the splint IF he could wear the striped washcloth, normally reserved for “protecting” his arm during his bath, held securely to his arm with a red hair band of mine—a widely recognized loophole of the Dodd-Frank act, David argued. I told him that he could wear only the red hair band without the washcloth, which seemed to satisfy him.
Off we went to the bank, with the red hair band looped three times around his wrist like a young girl carries an extra scrunchie just in case she decides to pull her hair back into a pony tail. It only looked slightly odd because David, of course, is not a girl and does not have anywhere near enough hair to pull back, with or without a scrunchie. But, the band gave just enough pressure to remind David that it was there, eliminating the need for the splint.
Ladies and gentlemen, you have just witnessed phase one in the step down splint cessation program, which greatly decreases any withdrawal symptoms.
The fact that David tolerated the hair band and had not even asked about the splint sent me in search of something else, something a tad more socially acceptable for David to wear on his wrist. The winning idea was submitted by Granny, and by Saturday afternoon the red hair band was replaced by a much more fashionable Wilson wristband, white with a red Wilson logo.
And there you have it, phase two--a Wilson wristband, the Nicorette of splint cessation.
David has worn the wristband all week and is happy with it. Plus he always looks as if he has just stepped off the tennis courts. It does not appear to hamper his writing at school and I see no reason to hurry to phase three.
Just as soon as I figure out what phase three is, I will let you know.
Does anyone know if Wilson wristbands are mentioned anywhere in the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act?