Ouch!

It would be way less humiliating to simply claim being another victim of the re-freeze ice. After all, I'd be in great company. Jordan, for example, was jogging, slipped, and now wears a bandage on her face where a sharp bit of ice poked a hole through her cheek. She got up and immediately fell again, this time on her back.

I didn't see that damage.

While I do claim ice-damage occasionally when large numbers of explanations are requested, since it stops questions rather neatly, my inclination against lying brought me around to a simpler explanation that allows the asker to draw their own conclusions without piling too much humiliation on me, adding insult to injury, as it were. "I landed on it."

That is completely true, without adding the detail that I am seemingly capable of tripping on my own shadow. In actual fact, I tripped over a half step in my very own home, the entrance to my bedroom as one comes inside from the screen porch, where I had been chatting with Rich, exchanging details on Daddy before I left for work and he took over care.

My first reaction upon landing was a huge mental sigh of relief that this time, at least, I'd landed in a twisted position which avoided more tendon damage in my knees. I actually think I avoided bruising them this time. I merely needed to embark on the lengthy process of getting myself up off the floor and standing again, something involving contortions to avoid putting pressure on either kneecap. Richard tried to help, but I have evolved a method which doesn't involve anybody else putting their back out. It's not graceful or ladylike. It just works, slowly. Congratulating myself on having escaped damage, off I went to work.

OK, maybe there was a wee bit of bruising after all. There was a bit of soreness as the day progressed. No biggee.

Then about 2:00, I grabbed a thick envelope with about 5 lbs. of paper inside with my left hand, and that's when it hit. Boom!

I'd forgotten about the third point in my three-point-landing: my left hand. That took the brunt of the impact, being the first contact point. It seemed perfectly fine at the time. Turns out it was just a stalker, lying in wait. While I quickly transferred the package to my right hand, and began favoring the left, the damage was done. By 4:00 I informed dispatch I was done for the day. Since I was then in Shakopee, and there's rarely work there late in the day, there was no pressure for "just one more, it's going your way."

After sitting a bit, and upping the ibuprofin dose from my knee maintenance level of 2 pills to three, I started driving home, stopping in Stillwater to pick up Jordan for Saturday's auction. I also called Paul, home on his day off, for a piece of engineering for me. He'd need a paint stirring stick, in one 8" piece and one 3" piece, duct tape, padding (he cut up old socks), and an ace bandage. The wrist was going to need to be immobilized. We were designing a splint.

I actually did consider hitting an urgent care clinic to get it checked out - for about three minutes. Start with the $180 to walk in the door (last time I stopped), add in X-rays and the cost of a splint or cast, and, well... no. Whatever the diagnosis, the result was going to be immobilizing the wrist/hand. Let's cut to the chase and just immobilize the dang thing. And celebrate the wonderful US system that is for-profit healthcare and for-bigger-profit that US health insurance. It's the system that might actually cover the visit - if it exceeded the $3,000 deductible, and if I could afford to spend more than every after-tax dollar of my income on the monthly premiums for something that considers everything in my life a non-covered pre-existing condition anyway.

So no, do it myself. With a little help from my sons. OK, a lot of help.

I've had bruising, bone spurs, tendon damage, and joint damage from loss of cartilage. This doesn't feel like any of those. I think it's broken. I think it was a greenstick fracture until suddenly it wasn't any more, from the sudden stress of grabbing that heavy package just the wrong way. The pain pressure point is on the back of the hand, just above the wrist where the middle finger would extend down to through the hand. Don't push on it there. It hurts. I've tried it, so I can tell. There is a lump. There is no discoloration.

And there is an ache. Bending the wrist causes it, in whatever direction. Lifting fingers causes it. Grasping with fingers causes it. Stopping any of those things causes it, or at least allows it to continue. It reminds me not to use the hand. Or it tries. Problem is, I'm so thoroughly left-handed that I need it for everything. Except driving.

Back when I had my rotator cuff injury, from which I'm somewhat recovered now, to the point I can (could) use both arms equally to shampoo my hair, I had limited arm motion but still had full hand use. If I could get the hand to someplace, even if I needed to hold it in place with the right arm, I could still use it. I had full grip strength.

No more.

I've been finding out that it takes two hands to open a bottle, whether of water or pills. I can try to cradle it inside the elbow against my body, but it doesn't work well. I have limited finger use, something very apparent when pulling my pants on or off. I have discovered an itch that the right hand can't reach, and now the left can't either.

Yesterday I got an inkling of what work is going to be like. I had already learned to close the car door by reaching across with the right hand, but now I also have to have the seatbelt across my lap first. I can't begin to reach that with the right hand. Driving itself is no problem. I usually drive with one hand. (Shhhhh!) But the other things - turn signals, radio, holding the cell phone while talking, holding a glass of water or a bite of food, take more planning and don't come without pain. I expect there will be a lot more pulling over and stopping. Without any grip strength, there is no more than a token touch on the wheel if the right hand needs to do something else. Fortunately, my car doesn't pull to either side at the moment.

We use little Nextel phones to send text communications for dispatching. Think lots of button pushing. Think an extravagantly large and unnecessary number of buttons to push. Typing in the letter "s" involves 5 punches after however many to navigate to the right place to type it in to. Add six or seven more to delete and start over because the system just can't keep up with anything resembling speed and fails to recognize anything but the absolutely perfect level of pressure and a certain speed on the number pad. Now, I can barely hold my cell phone in the left hand just to talk. Any communication from dispatch means stopping the car. Any!

My real wake-up call came at the gas station yesterday. I had to sign the charge slip. It was the first thing I'd had to write since putting the splint on. I could barely hold the pen, much less apply pressure, and the splint (now corrected) held my hand so the pen was two inches higher than the paper. I put the receipt on top of my pocketbook, but it wasn't high enough or firm enough for a mark to register. The store clerk finally grabbed a carton of cigarettes to set on top of my pocketbook, and that worked, so long as I kept sliding the receipt so the place I was writing on was right next to the edge.

I returned the cigarettes, of course.

Even more fun was filling out the check after the auction, since I bought something for slightly more than my day's pay. The information was printed, not script, one slow wobbly letter at a time, and the signature was unrecognizable. It took about four minutes. (At least I can type on the keyboard with just the right hand, so I was still able to earn that day's pay.)

Tomorrow I have to fill in my tripsheet by hand, with name and address of every stop, and expect to have to fill in security logs at certain stops. All this doesn't even take into consideration picking up and carrying packages, or using handrails to navigate stairs with my lovely knees.

At this point the pain level increases with each use of the left hand, even with the splint. Tomorrow is going to be interesting. Oh yeah, there'll be new snow again, too.