Over 1/6 of the way through

Dear Favorite white button-down sweater,

See you next winter.  Your sleeves are too fitted to accommodate my new limb.

Until we meet again,
Julia

1/6 of the time actually went by pretty quickly.  I'll be 1/4 done in no time...hopefully.  Now I'm super worried though.  I talked to someone the other night who broke his scaphoid bone exactly like I did. He said QUOTE "I'm not even going to tell you how long my recovery was."  I eventually made him tell me. 9 months.  9 freaking months in a cast, and THEN surgery.  I mean, what?!  I understand that everyone recovers differently, but what bone takes 9 months to heal?  No, we aren't iguanas, so I wouldn't expect my finger to just grow back if it got cut off...but I thought 6 weeks was a pretty standard recovery time for broken bones. Apparently, I was beyond mistaken.


I'm taking votes on what color my next cast should be.  Feel free to make suggestions anytime between now and next Tuesday.  Options include: Hot pink, neon orange, neon yellow, purple, blue, black, green (i think) and maybe a nude color.  Keep in mind that this cast will be in a wedding and in wedding photos, so the neon colors might be out of the question.  Katie might break my other arm if I showed up in hot pink to walk down the aisle.

"Oh look, you're broken!"
~Random girl I met and shook hands with at Happy Hour yesterday.


Countdown to tentative cast removal: 16 days down, 68 to go.

You have GOT to be kidding me.  Apparently the bag I put over my arm to shower this morning had a freaking hole in it.  The bottom half of my arm is really damp and won't dry.  I even tried the hairdryer, to no avail.  Ah, and it's starting to itch.  This whole thing is starting to not be funny anymore.  Get this stupid thing off of me!

That's all I have for today's post.  I have been complaining too much already today, that I think my head might explode if I started whining some more.

Countdown to tentative cast removal: 14 days down, 70 to go.  I made it to 2 weeks, people.  This is a monumental day.

Food and bev

Well it snowed again, and my little fingers are freezing!  Did I say this was gonna happen or did I say this was gonna happen?  Geez, Colorado.  Get it together.  Apparently no one told Hippie Mother Nature in Colorado that April is considered Springtime.  Anyways, my fingers are cold.  And I don't appreciate it.

A few weekend situations...

I worked in a sushi bar for 3 years.  Mastering the use of chopsticks is a skill I am pretty proud of.  Seriously- I could probably eat jello with chopsticks if I wanted to.  And I get extremely annoyed with people who stab fresh, raw, delicious tuna with a metal fork. At least TRY to use those wooden sticks that are so foreign looking.  So anyway, I tried to use chopsticks with the cast, but my index finger and thumb don't exactly touch, so it was a challenge.  Attempt #2 was to use the left hand.  Aw, man.  Asking for a fork was just another blow to my pride.  Anyone who knows me well knows that I usually refuse help from anyone...ever.  So asking for a fork was more difficult for me than you would think.  I wanted to preface the request with "I'm not an idiot!  I really CAN use chopsticks!  I'm just a cripple right now!"  But I didn't, because that's just silly and would have made me look pretty insecure.  I did hold up my right arm in explanation though.  That seems to be the easiest way to explain myself these days.

Not to repeat myself, but I worked in a sushi bar for 3 years, and waited tables/bartended for a total of about 7 years.  Pouring beer is another thing that I have mastered.  It's pretty satisfying really, pouring a draft beer with the perfect inch of foam is something not all people can do.  Well, I won't be doing it anytime in the near future.  Try it with your non-dominant hand, and all bets are off.  I successfully had more foam than beer, damn it.  And my 21 year old intern had a field day making fun of me about it.  Apparently, everyone is starting to feel comfortable enough with my cast, that they just make fun of it now.  I guess it's to be expected.  After all, I'm usually the first person laughing whenever someone gets hurt.  I know it's mean, but I really can't help it.

Countdown to tentative cast removal: 13 days down, 71 to go.

It's not you I'm worried about, it's the other drivers on the road...

Shaking hands has become awkward.  Not that I shake very many people's hands, but there is at least one person who comes into my office every day that I shake hands with.  It's a natural thing to shake with your right hand.  Well, at first I just awkwardly shook hands with my left hand, pointed to my right in explanation, and ended up having to explain the injury to every single person.  Well I quit.  Now I have just been extending my cast.  It's hilarious.  I would have expected the majority of people to say 'Oh, wow, what happened?' or at least say 'Aw man, that's a bummer' and get on with whatever we are meeting about.  It's not that I'm looking for sympathy, but it's normal to point out that my arm is messed up.  They don't!  I would say 9 out of 10 people I have shaken hands with in the last week have pretended to not notice.  I mean, really?  Even if you aren't looking at my arm, you don't notice the fact that my hand feels like an alligators elbow?  Of course they notice.  But it's really funny to see them try and act like there's nothing abnormal about it.  I almost feel like a handicapped person- people always notice but always try to pretend like they don't, for fear of feeling more uncomfortable than they already do.

I held my last volleyball practice of the season as a coach last night.  For the past 2 weeks, I have been tossing and hitting balls at the girls on my team with my left arm.  My left shoulder/arm hasn't seen this much action since...ever.  I feel like it is literally going to fall off.  And the girls always seem to forget that I am a gimp.  They throw balls back at me as if I can catch them.  I lost my voice screaming at them about it last night.  And I'm pretty sure I almost made one girl cry.  But c'mon ladies, we have been through this 100 times- don't THROW the balls back to me!  Can you not see that I can't catch them!?  I think this whole coaching experience has just reinforced my fear of ever becoming a parent.






Countdown to tentative cast removal: 9 days down; 75 to go.

One week anniversary

I survived the first week!  I think I'll buy a fancy plastic arm cover for the shower as my anniversary gift to my cast.  My sister was kind enough to post a link for any and all cast accessories imaginable, so I know exactly where to get one. I'm pretty sure she was making fun of me, but I'm taking it very seriously.

So I went dancing on both Friday and Saturday this weekend.  I certainly drew enough attention to myself on Saturday.  Not because I was dancing any certain way or being obnoxious or starting fights between guidos...but because I have blue fiberglass covering my entire forearm.  I think I might have hit a few people in the face.  In fact, I know I did.  This would not normally be a big deal, since the club is always crowded and everyone gets pushed around somewhat.  But getting hit in the face with a cast probably wasn't on the night's agenda for that chic with the perma-tease hair and stilettos.  Or wait...was that a guy?  Regardless, I hope I didn't leave a bruise.

On to yesterday's joys...

Peeling an orange was one of those things that I expected to be difficult.  But I never dreamed that I would somehow end up with that white stuff (the stuff between the peel and the fruit) covering the liner to my cast.  At least I smell citrus-y.  Maybe people will think I did it on purpose.  Speaking of smells, washing my hands isn't the most difficult thing to do, but it's sort of a pain sometimes.  I've started carrying an industrial size bottle of hand sanitizer with me everywhere.  I officially smell like rubbing alcohol ALL THE TIME.  Maybe I'll patent it as a fragrance.  Move over Paris, my Rubbin' Alcohol Delight is coming to a WalMart near you.

Anyhow, after zesting the orange with my cast, I decided I would go on a run.  This was the first real exercise I had done since they put this thing on me, so it was about time.  It wasn't any more difficult than it usually is.  The motion didn't hurt my wrist, and I couldn't even tell that my arm was any heavier than usual.  Afterward, however, came the fun part.  My arm was like a freakin' sauna.  Literally.  This thing can hold some serious heat and some really serious moisture.   And how do you air it out?  Oh, I discovered a fantastic solution.  You know how most hair dryers have a button to blow cold air?  I always wondered who would dry their hair with cold air...well...the hair dryer companies are looking out for us gimps.  It worked like a charm!  Thanks Conair, you made my day.

Countdown to tentative cast removal: 7 1/2 days down, 76 1/2 to go.

And the complaints continue...

I've finally decided to share my showering predicament. Many of you who have broken limbs before can probably relate. WHY ON EARTH HASN'T ANYONE CREATED A WATERPROOF CAST? You mean to tell me that there is a satellite in space that can circle the earth in a day and withstand 20,000 degrees of heat, and they can't come up with a waterproof piece of fiberglass? I know, I have heard rumors that these things exist, but I was never given the option of one. I know that I'm new to the whole broken wrists/cast world, but don't keep these things a secret!

Hey, I would even settle for some piece of plastic that fits snug on my arm (designed specifically to fit the cast), so that at least my fingers are exposed. Again, my left hand just doesn't get my hair clean. This takes me back to my freshman year in college when my roommate and I decided we would dread our hair. So cool. Really, we were cool. So, I didn't wash my hair for about 5 weeks. The attempt ended after a 3 week trip to Africa, when I decided that I would probably bring back an awful case of head lice if I didn't wash it at the end of the trip. Since using a plastic nub to assist my left hand does absolutely NOTHING, I might as well work on my dreadlocks again for the next few months.

Ah, eating.  I was eating a crepe this weekend.  A crepe- not something you would imagine is difficult to cut apart, right? Au contrare, my friends.  Au contrare.  My plastic fork certainly wouldn't cut it, and I was too chicken to attempt using a knife with my left hand.  I managed to literally PULL pieces apart with the fork and knife.  I was instantly heartbroken, realizing that steak was probably out of the question for a while.  And I have too much pride to let someone else cut it for me.  Actually, I take that back- the only person I will allow to cut up my steak for me is my Dad, and he lives 18 hours away.  Anyhow, something amazing happened yesterday.  While trying to slice a tomato, I discovered that wedging the knife handle into my cast and using 2 fingers to hold it in place actually works wonders.  I can eat solid food again- what a magnificent discovery. 

Ew, gross.  I was just kidding about the dreadlocks thing.  I at least won't do that on purpose.

Countdown to tentative cast removal: 6 days down, 78 to go.

AM/PM adventures

I've sort of accepted that my hope to take up tennis this summer will be postponed, if it even happens at all. In the name of finding a plan B, I have decided to take up hacky sack. It's perfect- you are actually NOT allowed to use your hands. It will be just like 6th grade again. Why not soccer, you say? Shinguards. Who wants to play a sport where people are always kicking you in the shins? Not me.

I love sleeping. Really, it's probably one of my favorite pastimes. Crawling in bed after a long day is so unbelievably satisfying. Well it has officially become a chore to sleep. I play eeni-meeni-miny-mo every night to decide which position to try next. So far...Sleeping on my left side- this cast is kind of heavy. Therefore, when I sleep on my left side, my right arm is weighing down the entire right side of my body. I wouldn't exactly call that comfortable. When I sleep on my back, I have to elevate this thing. For some reason, elevating the arm has caused a rather obnoxious pain underneath my right shoulderblade. Not only does the pain wake me up, but it has become a 24 hour annoyance. Do you think my insurance would cover getting a few massages since my back issues are due to a medical issue? When I sleep on my stomach...this is my favorite one. I've managed to fall asleep several times on my stomach with my arms folded underneath my pillow/head. Well, somehow the pillow always gets pushed out of the way, so I basically end up using the cast as a pillow. This is rather painful. No, not for my arm, but for my FACE. I literally have to peel my face off of my cast. And THEN, there is a nice squiggly criss-cross design imprinted on my left cheek. I'm lucky if it fades by the time I get to work.

Getting dressed in the morning has also become a real treat. When I was getting the cast on, the nurse said in a very casual way..."Well at least you can still wear all your clothes. Except tight fitted long sleeve shirts- that might be difficult." Ok, how many females in their mid-20's own a long sleeve shirt that ISN'T fitted? The last time I checked, this isn't 1975- bell bottom shirts have come and gone. And jackets?! The liner in my nice black pea-coat is already all ripped up from forcing the sharp fiberglass through the armhole. Thanks for trying to be positive though, Nurse Optimistic.

Countdown to cast removal: 5 days down, 79 to go.

Good news on Day #3!

Good news! My knuckles have officially reappeared. I was worried they were gone forever and that my fat kid sausage fingers would become a permanent side effect of this whole ordeal. Nope. They're back in action, people.

Last night's adventures were fairly minor, but still pretty annoying...

A few days ago, pre-fiberglass arm (when I was wearing a splint but still couldn't exactly move my wrist), I decided to do some laundry. I know it was bad timing, but I was completely out of underwear and getting desperate. After managing to haul it down to the laundry room with my left hand and left LEG (and having Anne Lee haul it back up), I was too frustrated to fold it. So, it has been in a pile on my bedroom floor, staring at me for about 3 days now. Yes, I have been digging through a thrift store style pile of clothes for 3 days. And no, I don't iron my clothes, so I've been going to work looking like a wrinkled hobo. Don't judge. Well, last night I attempted to fold the endless pile. My mother would be ashamed. I should have just stuffed them in my drawers, cause you can't tell the difference between wadded up and my poor, one handed excuse for folding. It was the first time in my life I actually WANTED to match the socks (it's way easier than folding t-shirts).

First time eating out since the cast:

Server: M'am, are you having anything to eat tonight?
Me: Sure- what's good?
Server:I really love our Ceasar salad with shrimp.
Me: Sounds great. I'll have that.

Here's my question- why do restaurants feel the need to serve shrimp with the tails on? Is it a laziness issue? No one eats them, there's never anywhere to put them, and they're difficult to pull off- especially with one hand. I tried to pull the tails off, but I couldn't seem to get a good enough grip to get the meat out of them. This was just unacceptable- getting all the meat out of the tail is one of those accomplishments that no one ever brags about, but we all get sort of excited about. I ate about 3 of them before I gave up. Thanks for the awful recommendation, lady. I should have known she was a wacko from the beginning- she tried to claim to be Southern because she was from Texas...

Moving on to today...

As I mentioned yesterday, the weather in Colorado often changes dramatically, very quickly. For example, yesterday was about 75 degrees and beautiful- today the high was about 50. I'm still not used to it. Anyhow, as I was walking from my parking lot to my office this morning, my hands were a little cold. It got me thinking- what if it snows here again before summer actually starts? Do they make gloves for people with a hand the size of small bowling ball? I gonna go ahead and say it's doubtful. The doctor sure didn't warn me of the frostbite risks involved with this cast. Wouldn't that just be peachy? Frostbitten, purple fingers sticking out of a bright blue cast. I could dye my hair red and be one step closer to looking like an actual rainbow.

Countdown to tentative cast removal: 2 1/2 days down, 81 to go

Day #2

Ah, it has finally warmed up here in Colorado. It's 70 degrees (even though the temp could drop to 30 within a matter of hours), the sun is shining, the birds are chirping and the volleyball nets are set up in the park. WaterWorld (largest water park in the US) is opening soon, as is the pool at my apartment building. And for me, most of this summer is going to be pretty awful.

So...in case you don't know already (aka you are one of those people who randomly stalks the blogs of people you don't know or you just haven't heard me cry about it yet)...I broke my wrist in a skiing accident on Saturday. I was in the half pipe doing a reverse flip side 1080 with a tailgrab (trying to copy the trick my friend Stacy had just landed), when I landed wrong and fell. I know, I'm pretty cool. Please don't be jealous. I also finished the run with a broken wrist- I would say that's pretty hard core too.

Anyways, I am writing this blog in an attempt to get out my frustrations without verbally complaining to all my friends and family ALL the time. I still might whine to them a little, but I'm hoping that getting it out on paper will decrease my need to complain- and hopefully make you smile. If you feel that I am too negative or shouldn't be whining about anything and everything- please, quit reading.

So, I went to the hand doctor yesterday expecting him to put me in a cast for about 6-8 weeks. Nope. I was oh-so wrong. 12 weeks. That's equivalent to 3 months, or 84 days. Also equivalent to 1/4 of a year. Also equivalent to my entire summer almost. Like I said, this blog is designed specifically for me to complain.

Despite the fact that this post is titled "Day #2", this is actually my first full day with one arm. Oh yeah, I broke my right wrist and I'm right handed...feel any more sorry for me? No? Well you should. To all you people who say things like- "You'll be fine. Can't you just do everything with your left hand?" - seriously? Try tying your right hand (or your left hand for you weirdo lefties) behind your back and doing everything with your left hand (or right hand for the weirdo lefties). It doesn't work! I'll even give you an easy one- brush your teeth tonight with your left hand (or right hand for you weirdo lefties). I bet it takes twice the time and your teeth don't get nearly as clean. And if for some reason, you have no problem using your non-dominant hand- please don't tell me. I don't want to hear about how you are ambidextrous. My teeth are gonna need a serious cleaning when these 12 weeks are up.

Also, as of today, I promise that anytime I encounter someone with an injury, I will not tell them "well, it could always be worse." That is just not what an injured person wants to hear. Yes, I know I could have broken my leg (in which my recovery time would actually be faster), I could have died, I could have been born autistic or I could have even been born blind. Yes, I know. My situation could always be worse. But really, do you have to make me feel so bad about feeling sorry for myself for a few days? I know I should be thanking my lucky stars that I wasn't born with 14 fingers and 14 toes, but right now, I would like to dwell on my injury.

Let's start with my first morning in this wonderful cast. I will save the getting dressed and showering complaints for another post.

I went to Starbucks this morning to get my "Free tax day coffee." Easy enough, right? Well, when I went to pour skim milk into my really hot coffee, the skim pitcher was of course empty. So, I put my portable coffee mug (which DOES have a lid) under my right arm and grabbed the pitcher with my left to get refilled. No big deal, right? Wrong. Coffee mugs aren't meant to be carried by an armpit. Right now, I have an enormous brown stain covering my entire right boob. And yes, I tried to wipe it off, but again, cleaning stuff up with my left hand just doesn't work well. Also, I haven't checked yet, but I'm pretty sure I have a 2nd degree burn on my right pectoral and armpit. Maybe I could sue Starbucks.

In other news, my head has been hurting since this morning and I just noticed a medium sized bruise on my forehead. I haven't run into any walls or gotten punched recently...so the only explanation I can come up with is that I hit myself in the head with my cast while I was sleeping. Seriously? How did I not wake up? I know breaking my wrist was stupid, but I really didn't think I would unconsciously abuse myself over it.

What color is my cast you ask? All I have to say is -GO TIGERS.

Please stay tuned for more adventures of Julia and her cast. They should prove to be pretty entertaining.

Countdown to tentative cast removal: 1 1/2 days down, 82 to go.