Broken Brecon

Our Saturday night enjoyment suddenly took a turn for the emergency kind when Ben and Brecon had been playing of the trampoline together. There was an awkward fall-
I hear Ben yell "Brecon broke his arm; we're going to the hospital!"
I rushed upstairs to see them in the kitchen holding Brecon's left arm carefully. I'm confused but try to comprehend what has happened and how. The description was vague; they rushed out the door to go to the emergency room. Connor and Brielle wanted to go and were screaming and crying to get out the door.

After x-rays were taken and the orthopedist doctor placed a cast up the full arm before the shoulder, they were able to come home. My poor little tough guy! He ate warmed up macraroni and cheese and drank root beer through a straw. We let him play his game on the "thinga-bobber" until we were ready for bed. It seemed like every 15 minutes he'd yell "MOM! I need to go to the bathroom!" I'd race upstairs to help with pants and washing one hand, and he'd settle right back onto the couch, prop his arm on a pillow, and begin playing again.
Seriously? A broken arm? This is the last thing that our family needs right now. So much to do and we are running out of time.