Talk To The Hand

Last time I broke a bone was in the seventh grade when my mean older brother Chris had a slight overreaction to me scaring the bejesus out of him. I had walked to to the top of the stairs, delivered a big "Boo!" and sent him into outrage. For some reason, I retreated into a ball on the floor and he proceeded to kick me... in the foot... fracturing the second toe on my right foot.

You'd think it'd be no big deal, but I was actually on crutches for weeks. The good news: It got me out of phys ed for the duration. So I found it in my heart to forgive the ogre Christopher.

When I recently, uh, fell down getting out of bed (no further information is available at this time. Please call back during normal business hours), and more or less took the full weight of my downward sojourn on my left pinky finger, I simply couldn't imagine that I had done anything more than jam the shit out of the appendage. That was a month ago and with my finger still swollen, hurting like hell and disfigured such that I look like an ole hag (how's your meemaw?), I finally made my way to the doctor today.

I tell you what. You'd imagine that healthcare in the big city is one bureaucratic stop sign after another, but get this: First stop, my primary care physician for a consultation; an immediate referral for an x-ray within walking distance; 30 minutes later it's confirmed that I fractured the damn pinky; and I return to my doc with x-rays in hand; where they call a specialist and set up an appointment for me today.

In the end, I was fitted for a splint, which I have to wear for six weeks 24/7 (which is certainly making typing an adventure, not to mention writing, since I'm left-handed). And this time, I don't even get out of gym class.

But I am amazed that within the course of six hours, I had literally made four doctor visits and reached resolution. Thank god I still have insurance, for one. But I raise my hand... or at least my pinky... for a stellar, caring experience today. Let's just hope that the bones in fact reconnect and I don't live the rest of my life looking like the Wicked Witch.