Yesterday seemed like a nice, warm, pleasant day before the expected storm that is on its way to give us about seven inches of snow.  Looking back, I’m now remembering that I didn’t get in the intent to fertilize my lawn to take advantage of the moisture.  It was about 4:20pm and I was about to take my kids to the local instrument store to drop off my son’s trumpet for repair.  I was considering picking up some favorite food of Porter’s on the way back to celebrate his monthly “birthday.”  He was probably going to play tennis after work to take advantage of the weather.  We give ourselves a “me” day every month on the day of our birth.

We were waiting for Maya to wake up from her nap so I tried to tidy up quickly first.  In commemoration of Spring and to treat myself a little, I had put on my slip-on burgundy shoes with a wide wedge heel that were a post-divorce treat.  You can probably anticipate where this is going…

I had some notes on my sofa table that I thought I’d get over to my desk in our finished basement.  Mid-way down the stairs, near the turn, a wedge heal seemed to catch against the Berber carpet and I felt my self lose balance, literally, not metaphorically.  I was conscious of trying to protect my head from the wall.  In the process, my left hand ended up going backwards, in the direction our hands are not intended to go, with the weight of my body landing on it.

I gathered my wits and sat there at the landing, assessing the situation, after pulling my hand out.  I hadn’t hit my head against the wall in front of me and had probably scratched my knees.  My left hand was beginning to feel excruciating pain.  I remembered hearing that when you break something, it hurts a lot.  And the pain I felt seemed comparable to my drug-free birth from a year prior.  My shoes were laying near me.

The Culprit

Colin continued to play his video game in the living room.  Finally, I calmly asked him to set that down and help me.  Isn’t it amazing how we parents can remain calm and quiet with excruciating pain when our kids are around?  I had him get me an ice-pack, which I put on my hand and continued my task of getting my papers to my desk.  I realized I was probably not going to be able to use my hand to drive and that Porter’s day was going go not as planned.

Going back upstairs, I asked Colin to call Porter and explain what happened and that I might need to go to the local clinic.  Colin thought I was invincible and was trying to process that I was hurt.  I sat in excruciating pain waiting for Porter to drive from Aurora, get Maya situated with Colin as brief babysitter while he dropped me off.

At the Dr.’s, while waiting in the examination room, I let the tears roll for the pain and turn of events.  How was I going to hold Maya?  She couldn’t walk yet and seemed to be about 25lbs.  What about writing and gardening?  Or even cooking and cleaning?  Damn those shoes!  Why hadn’t I taken them off before going down the stairs?  Why hadn’t I gone slower?

X-rays showed I had broken my hand in two places.  I had never broken a bone before.  This was my first, at 41 and with a baby not yet walking.  Not the best time!  We ended up with another mini-crisis as my ring finger was swelling and I could not remove my precious engagement and wedding ring.  In the end, it was cut, which was still a struggle to remove.  Finally, a tech came to the rescue by prying the ring apart with tools while it was pushed up, preventing another cut.  I knew Porter would not be happy with this side development (and he wasn’t).  We have lousy health insurance, so this is not a good financial development, outside of the ring.  Typically, we pay everything up to our high deductible. 

About an hour later, after getting my hand in a splint and bandage and referrals to hand surgeons (I hadn’t connected the dots that this would mean hand surgery, which Porter clarified), Porter picked me up.  It was now about three hours since my fall and I still hadn’t had any pain medicine besides two aspirins at home.  We picked up a prescription for Vikaden, which I finally took at 8:30pm, since it was supposed to be taken at bedtime, after a struggle getting a snug long-sleeve off my hand in a cast, that Porter finally got off.  How was I going to manage shirts?

The Vikaden seemed to help but I seemed to keep waking up andwas lying awake by 2am, feeling my hand ache.  Then finally by 2:30, I thought I’d go ahead and blog to keep my mind off the pain.  So here I am, typing away with one hand.  It’s almost 4am, so I’m not exactly efficient, but at least have the use of my right hand since I’m right-handed.

Related post:  Slowing down