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.