Enter a new era – Blogging one handed,

27 May 2010 9 Comments

by Chelle in I am a nutjob, I am a stubborn asshole, I am an impatient bastard

I was going to blog about candy today, because candy is yummy, but then this happened last night:

That is my right hand, and yes, I am right handed.

Okay, so you know how sometimes when you’re yelling talking, to make a point, you’ll hit something, or like, slam your hand down? Yeah. Think twice before doing that. Is what I’m saying.

I swear, I did not hit that table hard. It didn’t even hurt. When it happened, I felt my knuckle shift, and it popped quietly. Hell, I could get a bigger/louder pop if I cracked my knuckles like those cliche cops in movies and such do to be all intimidating. But it didn’t hurt at all. Nothing registered as being wrong until I tried to pick up my Pepsi and my pinky didn’t bend. Why the fuck isn’t my pinky working, I wondered with growing alarm. I brought my hand in front of my face, and there I saw it. My pinky knuckle was a good half inch lower than it was supposed to be. I took some pictures, but they didn’t really show it very well.

A better angle:

And I didn’t get any pictures of my X-Rays, so you get this improvisation.

This is not my hand, but this is what it looked like.

This is called a "Boxer's Fracture", which is what the doctor said I had.

I ran upstairs to show Zeus. “See my hand? See how that knuckle isn’t where it’s supposed to be?”

He didn’t see it at first, so I showed him my uninjured hand. His eyes flew open as they flitted back and forth between the two hands. He suggested I let him pull it back into place. Grabbing my pinky, he slowly started to pull. It hadn’t been hurting at all up to that point. The second he tugged, my nerves burst into fire. I screamed and jerked my hand away. “Maybe we should call your mom!” I shrieked.

His mom is a nurse, so I figured she could offer some insight. But we couldn’t get a hold of her, or any of his other family members. An hour passed, and Zeus suggested I let him try to put the finger back into place again. I was in a lot of pain at this point, and even though I’d been keeping ice on it, the swelling was pretty bad. I gingerly extended my arm out to him with a warning. “I swear by all that is holy, if you jerk my finger I will punch a hole through your face.” I was dead serious too. He laughed and asked if I wanted to risk doing the same thing to my other hand. I told him I was more than willing to, and that not only would I cause his face harm, I might just look for a hammer and put his hand in the same shape mine is. I think he took me seriously.

Again he pulled, slowly. Again the pain flared to excruciating levels. This time it brought me to my knees, crying. I have given birth with no pain control whatsoever, and I can tell you that this ranked right below that. I was not having fun. Now my hand was throbbing, and nervy bolts of pain were shooting from my hand to my elbow. We continued trying to get a hold of someone and his mom finally answered her phone. She said she’d be right over.

When she got here, she asked to look at my hand. One quick look and she announced that she was taking me to the ER. On the way there, my hand mercifully started to go numb. Oh I was happy. The emergency room wasn’t busy, so I was quickly signed in and taken to the back. Everyone I talked to asked me what I hit. I tried to explain to them that it wasn’t like punching something in anger, I’d just wanted to make a damned point, but no one believed me. Oh well. Once we got to radiology and saw the extent of the damage, they shot my hand up with pain stuff, wrapped it up with a wet cloth that hardens into a cast and put my finger back where it belonged. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt that much, but I think I can thank the syringe full of Lidocaine or whatever for that. They scheduled me to see a bone specialist on Wednesday, wrote me a prescription for pain pills and sent me on my way.

It wasn’t long after I got home that the Lidocaine wore off. I didn’t get much sleep last night, and while my pills get me higher than a kite, they do shit for my pain. They also make me feel vaguely ill, which is bleh. So anyway. That was my night. How was yours?

P.S. This post was written one handed and under the influence of pain pills. I apologize for it’s sloppiness.