(no subject)
Feb. 25th, 2005 05:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mr_bad_exampleSmallest joint in the human body, and I found a way to fuck it up.
I'm a little on the clumsy side. I usually break a toe at least once a year.
When it happens, the toe swells up and turns purple, and I just hobble around
for a few days feeling sorry for myself while the toe returns to its usual size
and coloration. Last night it happened again, but in much more spectacular
fashion.
I was in martial arts class. We practice on those folding gymnastics mats that
always remind one of eighth-grade gym-class humiliation. I was being thrown, and
somehow my left pinkie toe got caught in the seam between two mats. I felt it
catch, but I thought it slid right out without too much damage. Then I looked
down and saw that it was at an angle that was downright jaunty.
I excused myself, went over to the instructor, and said, "Sensei, my toe has
extra corners."
He said, "Would you like to sit down?" and I said, "Yes, I think I'd better
had." I like to think that I am cool and level-headed when I've just hurt
myself, but I'm really not.
Here's how ugly my toes are: The instructor could not tell which one was
injured.
I excused myself from class and had![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gismonda drive me to the hospital. On the way, she regaled me with stories of how this has happened to
her and she just pops the toe back into alignment and how very very painful it
is. Because I am not cool and level-headed when I've just hurt myself, I rolled
down the window and got some fresh air.
I was third in line at the emergency room, behind a guy with a respiratory
complaint and a 20-ish guy with holding a gauze pad over his left eyebrow. The
triage nurse looked at my foot and sort of prodded around asking where it hurt.
I said, "No, there's no pain there, or there, it's just thEEEEEEEEre."
What was on the waiting room television? E.R. I didn't need that.
Eyebrow Guy started talking to his friend. He took a hockey puck out of his
pocket. The pieces of his particular situation began to fall into place.
Two hours later, they called me back. While we were waiting for the doctor,
Gismonda offered to read to me. I said that considering she's reading Master
And Commander, I'd pass. (N.B.: Yes, it's very romantic to imagine being on
a ship during the Age of Sail. But I like my limbs right where they are, thank
you very much indeedy.)
I described what happened to the doctor and what was injured ("Not there, not
there, right thEEEEEEEre"), and had some X-rays taken. Diagnosis:
fracture/dislocation of the distal joint. He then told me that this is
apparently a very complicated joint to work on, and if they couldn't fix it,
they'd have to operate. Apparently, yes, this is something they will wheel you
into the OR in the middle of the night to fix. The doctor injected novocaine
four times WITH A DAMN NEEDLE DIRECTLY INTO MY TOE and went off to see another patient while the toe numbed. I only felt three, so it's possible that, because
I am not cool and level-headed when I've just hurt myself, I may have blacked
out momentarily. As it turns out, the toe is a very painful place to receive an
injection. I have no idea how surreptitious heroin junkies do it.
An hour or so later, the doctor came back and said, "OK, let's give it a yank
and see if that fixes anything." I said, "Got me through high school." He then
grabbed the toe and proceeded to determine whether I am, in fact, jovial
crimestopper Ralph Dibny.
Another round of X-rays revealed that the doctor was apparently able to pop the
appendage back into place. They gave me a prescription for The Good Stuff, a
pair of crutches, and one of those velcro shoe thingies. I didn't get home until
2 AM (which did afford me the opportunity to see the huge line of bar-goers
lined up at Jimmy John's. I always did wonder how they made their money.)
Today, the toe feels OK. I still can't move it, but I can walk, after a fashion.
It's looking like I won't need the crutches, but I am debating buying a cane. I break
toes just often enough that it seems like it might be a sensible thing to buy.
I'm actually sort of relieved that I've gotten the yearly toe injury out
of the way. I was starting to wonder when the shoe would drop, if you will.
I'm a little on the clumsy side. I usually break a toe at least once a year.
When it happens, the toe swells up and turns purple, and I just hobble around
for a few days feeling sorry for myself while the toe returns to its usual size
and coloration. Last night it happened again, but in much more spectacular
fashion.
I was in martial arts class. We practice on those folding gymnastics mats that
always remind one of eighth-grade gym-class humiliation. I was being thrown, and
somehow my left pinkie toe got caught in the seam between two mats. I felt it
catch, but I thought it slid right out without too much damage. Then I looked
down and saw that it was at an angle that was downright jaunty.
I excused myself, went over to the instructor, and said, "Sensei, my toe has
extra corners."
He said, "Would you like to sit down?" and I said, "Yes, I think I'd better
had." I like to think that I am cool and level-headed when I've just hurt
myself, but I'm really not.
Here's how ugly my toes are: The instructor could not tell which one was
injured.
I excused myself from class and had
gismonda drive me to the hospital. On the way, she regaled me with stories of how this has happened toher and she just pops the toe back into alignment and how very very painful it
is. Because I am not cool and level-headed when I've just hurt myself, I rolled
down the window and got some fresh air.
I was third in line at the emergency room, behind a guy with a respiratory
complaint and a 20-ish guy with holding a gauze pad over his left eyebrow. The
triage nurse looked at my foot and sort of prodded around asking where it hurt.
I said, "No, there's no pain there, or there, it's just thEEEEEEEEre."
What was on the waiting room television? E.R. I didn't need that.
Eyebrow Guy started talking to his friend. He took a hockey puck out of his
pocket. The pieces of his particular situation began to fall into place.
Two hours later, they called me back. While we were waiting for the doctor,
Gismonda offered to read to me. I said that considering she's reading Master
And Commander, I'd pass. (N.B.: Yes, it's very romantic to imagine being on
a ship during the Age of Sail. But I like my limbs right where they are, thank
you very much indeedy.)
I described what happened to the doctor and what was injured ("Not there, not
there, right thEEEEEEEre"), and had some X-rays taken. Diagnosis:
fracture/dislocation of the distal joint. He then told me that this is
apparently a very complicated joint to work on, and if they couldn't fix it,
they'd have to operate. Apparently, yes, this is something they will wheel you
into the OR in the middle of the night to fix. The doctor injected novocaine
four times WITH A DAMN NEEDLE DIRECTLY INTO MY TOE and went off to see another patient while the toe numbed. I only felt three, so it's possible that, because
I am not cool and level-headed when I've just hurt myself, I may have blacked
out momentarily. As it turns out, the toe is a very painful place to receive an
injection. I have no idea how surreptitious heroin junkies do it.
An hour or so later, the doctor came back and said, "OK, let's give it a yank
and see if that fixes anything." I said, "Got me through high school." He then
grabbed the toe and proceeded to determine whether I am, in fact, jovial
crimestopper Ralph Dibny.
Another round of X-rays revealed that the doctor was apparently able to pop the
appendage back into place. They gave me a prescription for The Good Stuff, a
pair of crutches, and one of those velcro shoe thingies. I didn't get home until
2 AM (which did afford me the opportunity to see the huge line of bar-goers
lined up at Jimmy John's. I always did wonder how they made their money.)
Today, the toe feels OK. I still can't move it, but I can walk, after a fashion.
It's looking like I won't need the crutches, but I am debating buying a cane. I break
toes just often enough that it seems like it might be a sensible thing to buy.
I'm actually sort of relieved that I've gotten the yearly toe injury out
of the way. I was starting to wonder when the shoe would drop, if you will.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-27 07:39 am (UTC)