Apparently I run faster than I thought...

Disclaimer: this is all being typed with seven fingers, so I ask for some extra grace in regards to typos.

Where to start?

A friend of mine told me about a pick up game of soccer that happens every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 1 to 3pm. About thirty dudes and 3 women of all ages congregate at a park in Queen Anne and just play... it's kind of awesome and what adulthood is about when I daydream. It took some convincing for me to show up by myself though, as the friend and most of my soccer enthusiastic compadres are stuck in a M-F 9-5 situation. My social anxieties looked at that situation and said "Aw hellll no." But when a sunny day in Seattle comes around you don't let it pass by-- what better way to fully embrace it than by playing futbol.

So I went a couple of weeks ago, panic attack the whole way and even as I stepped on the field. It didn't take long for me to realize '...30 dudes... 3 girls... what a wonderful ratio!' and my attitude picked up quite a bit. I stayed the whole two hours and promised myself (and a couple of new friends ;)...) that I'd be back. It was fun.

So, back I went, this past Wednesday. We started playing, and I was playing decently for the first time in a long time. I had a good amount of energy and my legs didn't feel like cinder blocks. About 30 minutes in, I was running my fastest (keep in mind, speed isn't my strength) for something, and all of the sudden I ran smack into a GIANT. This guy is like 7 feet tall and big. My hands hit him first and the rest of me followed in a mortifying slow motion sequence. I heard a snap and felt my fingers jam-- owie!-- but no way was I going to make all these dudes aware that the girl got hurt. "Good thing you don't need your hands for soccer," I thought to myself. I convinced myself the snap was a knuckle popping, and continued to play. However, I couldn't deny the overwhelming pain I had in my left hand. A deep, dull, dark blue throbbing. I held my whole arm closer to my torso and kept playing. I forced myself to ignore it and at one point forgot my hand hurt-- I took it as a good sign! Then I let my hand relax and as I ran it jostled about. All too quickly I was slapped back into reality by the hand of that intense pain that was back with a vengeance.

'Keep playing, it's fine, you jammed your finger, life goes on, THIS is your workout, make it legit.' So I kept playing, having learned my lesson to not relax that hand.

Soccer is a contact sport as I so dramatically demonstrated by stampeding a giant. So, it didn't take long for some innocent partcipant to hit my hand with his. He probably barely touched it, but the pain it caused took my breath away. I could feel the tears coming and I knew I had to get out of there. I'd rather leave early than cry in front of these clowns. So I quickly left-- taking off my shoes one handed and gathering my things. I walked to my car, got in, and lost it.

MY HAND HURT SO BAD. MY RING FINGER WAS (IS) HANGING AT A REALLY WEIRD ANGLE. I CAN'T USE MY FINGERS. THAT'S BAD.

I wanted to just go home and figure out what to do; to practice the motto of my childhood: 'Ice and Advil for a few days, call the doctor if it doesn't get better.' I went to grip the steering wheel and was sent into a whole new fit of hysterics because there was no way my left hand would be at all able to participate in driving. If I drove an automatic, I'd say, eh no biggie, however, I am a stick shifter for life, and I just had no confidence in my ability to drive one handed home. I need two hands every now and then or at least to know that if a crash is about to happen I can count on my other hand to swerve and avoid it. I cried some more and started texting people.

I reasoned that I just needed to go to an Urgent Care and get a brace of some sort to help stabilize whatever was happening, then I could drive and figure out my game plan at home. I asked my friend who lives in that neighborhood (but was at work) if there was an Urgent Care I could walk to. Nope. Another friend called and helped me look up urgent cares covered by my insurance (details). On a hail-mary, I texted a friend saying "Is there any chance you're not at work right now?" and lo and behold she wasn't! She picked me up, I left my car and she dropped me off at Urgent Care where I waited for TWO HOURS. They were nice enough and had someone help me fill out the paper work since my wounded wing happens to be my dominant hand. Took forever, but the wait after paperwork was one second shy of eternity. Towards the end of it, another friend (who agreed to take me home after everything) showed up and waited with me. Finally it was my turn. The assistant did my vitals then independently of the physician made the decision to do xrays (which I'd be fired for at my job... but whatever).

I was really resistant to xrays. I didn't expect them to show anything as a lot of fractures take a solid two weeks to show up anyway and it'd be a waste of a couple hundred bucks. On top of that the assistant (who doubled as an xray tech...) wanted me to do all sorts of crazy contortions with my obviously disfigured hand. I looked at her like she was an alien, and she said "I'll help you," as she reached for my mangled mano and started to manipulate it into the position she wanted. I yelped and slapped her hand away. It was a tense moment. I gathered myself and said "That is VERY UNCOMFORTABLE, please don't touch my hand." I was pissed. Everything that had happened was just getting worse. Then she asked me to remove the ring on my left thumb, and I tried (I also had tried right after I hit Goliath, but swelling already started making it impossible), but it wouldn't come off. I explained this to her and showed her, but she was fixated saying "The radiologist will see it as an abnormality..." to which I replied, "hopefully the radiologist will see it's a ring and perhaps we could include a note to explain that if (s)he has questions." The focal point of pain was over the base of my ring finger for pete's sake! No one cares about my damned thumb.

One way or another I survived the xray. 20 minutes later the MD came in and did her basic assessment and was much gentler than the assistant. She left to look at the xray and maybe 4 minutes came back and said "yep, you broke a bone." My eyes bugged out-- "ARE YOU SERIOUS?!" I just went there for a splint. I didn't want xrays. I just needed something to stabilize my hand so I could drive home. At the very worst I thought maybe I dislocated something by the way my ring finger was dangling so askew to the rest of my fingers. "Can I see the xray?!?!" (as if the break would have disappeared by the time I saw it, or I'd show her how she misread the film... pah!...). We walked to the computer, she pulled it up and lo and behold-- a spiral fracture of the 4th metacarpal--clear as day. Speechless.

She shoo'd my friend and me back to the exam room where she gave me a real shitty ('scuse the language... you'd agree if you saw it) splint that does NOTHING, while apologetically saying "This is the best we have." Then she handed me the business card of a HAND SURGEON and instructed me to make an appointment as soon as possible. Speechless-er. Then a prescription for Dilaudid. Finally something good! Then it hit me-- I had to work the next day. I explained this to her and she wrote me a work note and said "that's all we can do for you here," and we left.

My friend was great and took me back to my car, I moved it to an overnight legal parking spot close by-- still didn't feel good about driving it and no one else in the world can drive stick. Then we went to get sushi because I realized I hadn't eaten since breakfast and it was getting close to 7pm. First we dropped my prescription off at a pharmacy where my friend filled out the paperwork and the pharm-tech eyed us suspiciouly. I felt like Monica and Rachel in the friends episode where Rachel uses Monica's insurance in the ER, but they met attractive doctors and I had no such luck-- so I quickly returned to reality. I felt somewhat better after eating. Finally got home and called work to say I would not be joining them in the morning, popped some pain pills and slept.

I woke often. A side effect of Dilaudid is itching and holy cow did I itch. It was the least restful night ever.

I spent most of Thursday on the phone... getting an appt with the hand surgeon, with my boss, with occupational health, then HR. Everyone has an opinion about my situation. The conclusion? Short term disability. Boo. The hand MD will dictate how long it will last, but bottom line is I can't deliver safe patient care with only one hand. That appointment is on Monday... I'm hoping to heaven that it isn't anything that will require pins or re-breaking, etc. :/

In the mean time I've been adjusting to one handed life. Not fun. I made my own ghetto splint with popsicle sticks and ace wrap that's way more effective than the one I was given. However I woke up the other day with a pressure sore from it... whoopsie, the design may be slightly flawed.

I'm trying to not be crabby but I'm failing. I just want to know what this looks like long term... I think if I can have a clearer picture of it then I can figure out how to make it tolerable. If they're going to make me not work for several weeks-- I think another vacation is in order. We will see though.

The giant wasn't even attractive. Rude.