There IS a God

I have incredible bones.  I think it has something to do with the fact that I sometimes eat cereal twice a day.  Some credit is probably due to the bone stimulator that I've been using religiously...but I think it's mostly my freakishly iguana-like bones (and the milk in my cereal of course).

The nurse busted out the super scary saw again.  It really wasn't scary at all this time, but it still looks kinda intimidating. Her first comment was "Nice tan line."  Cause it is pretty NIIIICE. 



Not only do I have a tan line, but I am literally MOLTING.  Yes, molting.  Like a snake.  This didn't happen instantly, but over the past few hours, every inch of skin on my hand has started to peel off.  It's quite the distraction really.  I'm having trouble getting much work done because of it.  If you ever need a serious skin exfoliant, just break a bone.  Trust me, it will work.  Ew, and here's something that is a huge mystery to me- the hair on my arm turned black.  Jet black hair on a ghostly white arm.  It's really unattractive.  I hope no one is eating while reading this...if anyone is even reading this at all...

After the saw came the fun x-rays. The first 2 were easy- just sit there and take a picture of your bones.  The 3rd one, though- ouch.  I had to bend my wrist outward so they could get a picture of my messed up bone.  It was so painful.  I knew right then and there that the cast was going right back on.  Well, this is the first thing that I have actually been HAPPY to be wrong about.

Dr. Heyman: "Well that's weird.  You healed really fast. I can't even make out the break.  You want a soft cast now?"
Me: "Is that even a question?"
Dr. Heyman: "Well, yes it is."


I told you guys he was awkward.


Now, when he says healed, he means that I healed enough to wear a splint instead of a stupid awful ugly cast.  I still can't exactly move my wrist much, but my range of motion is supposed to come back with time.  I guess the pain I had during the x-ray was just from my wrist basically getting stuck in place. As long as it's not broken anymore, I don't care why it hurts.  Anyways, people- I no longer have a fiberglass arm.  It's glorious.  Weird, but glorious.  Thank you, oh thank you Baby Jesus!  I'm so happy, that I might just sing the University of Memphis fight song right now....just sang it.  I hope all you Tigers fans sing it today too- it's a fun one to sing regardless of what you are celebrating.

I know the few of you who actually read this are sad to know the blog is probably coming to an end.  I will post a few more to outline how my wrist is progressing now that it is back in the sun, but those will be few and far between....

On second thought...maybe I'll just continue this blog as a means to complain about other random things that bother me.  Yep, I think I'll do that.  I'm really good at being negative and complaining about things that don't bother anyone but me, so I should be able to come up with a decent amount of content.


Countdown to tentative cast removal: 72 days down.  0 to go.  Now, that's one big fat zero.

Thursday

Today is Thursday.  And tomorrow is Friday. Soon it will be next Tuesday.  Ah, next Tuesday. It could be either the first day of the rest of my life...or it could be the 1st day of the next 6 weeks.  Dear Lord, please let Dr. Heyman cut this stupid thing off me and give me a splint for the next 6 weeks.  I sure would love to take a shower without a bag on my arm.

I was sure things were looking up- a few days ago, my wrist was feeling great.  I thought that it couldn't feel this good unless it was healed.  I started thinking that maybe, JUST MAYBE, my next set of x-rays would say I was fixed!  Then last night, I tried to pick up my dinner plate, and I felt a shooting pain through my arm.  Ouch. ouch ouch ouch.  I think that means I'm still injured. 

Countdown to tentative cast removal: 37 days down, 47 to go.  Almost halfway.

The Gimp Travels

I went to Vegas this weekend for a much needed "vacation".  Vacation is in quotations because it involved no relaxing at all, and I now need another one recover.  Anyhow, it was tons of fun, so the recovery is worth it.

Part one of the cast adventure started at the airport.  I'm usually extremely discombobulated when it comes to airport security.  I always forget to take my laptop out or put something in a plastic bag or get undressed completely, so I dread this part of traveling.  Well, Friday, I was prepared and in an extremely good mood.  So I wore slip-on shoes, no belt, and made sure all my liquids were LESS than 3 ounces.  My ID was easily accessible in my back pocket, and both my bags fit in the x-ray machine.  Yes, I have been rejected from security before because my bag wouldn't fit...it's embarrassing.  Needless to say, my stupid broken wrist was the last thing on my mind.

Leave it up to airport security to make sure I didn't forget that I am handicapped.  After walking through the metal detector, they pulled me aside.  I figured they would examine my cast, see that it was signed by a bunch of 15 year olds (and one 35 year old), and let me be on my merry way.  Nope.  First they swabbed by whole arm with those round white pieces of paper that are supposed to detect bomb residue.  I don't believe they do anything at all in the first place, but I went with it.  No big deal.  I was now going to be released, right?  Wrong again.  They then brought me into the back of security in a private room.  Visions of a cavity search instantly flashed before my eyes.  I nervously said, "Wow, you guys really don't like people with broken limbs, huh?"  The woman just blankly looked back at me and said "Well, MA'M, people from other countries try to smuggle weapons in their casts, so we take it very seriously. Just be happy you aren't in a full body cast."  Oops.  Shouldn't have said that.  But thanks for putting my injury into perspective, TSA lady. I remember the shoe bomber dude, but I don't recall anyone ever smuggling weapons on a plane with a cast...whatever.  Luckily, there was no cavity search.  She did, however, do 3 full x-rays of my arm and examined them all very closely.  I was tempted to ask her for a copy of them to take to my next doctor's appointment.  I've decided I will just buy a cheap flight every 3 weeks for the next few months and get my x-rays done that way.  It's probably cheaper than the ones at the doctor's office.

So I made it through security in one piece.  I will vow that from now on, I will not complain about taking the bobby pins out of my hair before I enter security.  It could always be worse.  I just can't wait until I get to do this at the Memphis Airport next week-those idiots are the WORST.

I am not a slot machine person.  My grandmother taught me well- slot machines will just suck away your money.  I do, however, love the tables (another lesson from Granny).  Dealers are generally great, friendly people, but every SINGLE dealer asked about my cast.  I guess it's a natural question to ask when making conversation, but it did get annoying.  Give it a rest, people.  One dealer (her name was Linda, and she looked like she has dyed her hair and smoked for the last 250 years) said "What do you wear that for?"  I was confused.  What do people in casts usually wear a cast for?  I thought that was common knowledge...so I responded "Oh, this is part of my outfit.  It's all the rage these days."  Then she took my money.  She tried to make it seem like it was the fault of the cards, but I think she was trying to get back at me for being a smart ass again.  I'm starting to understand why someone signed my cast "pompa inteligente" (Spanish for "smart ass")

Lady at the Harrah's cash out area: "What'd you do?  Punch a boy in the face?"
Me: "Actually, yes."
Lady: "Good job girl!"
She instantly became my favorite person, because no one else has believed that story.

Countdown to tentative cast removal: 34 days down.  50 to go.

A random thought

The skin on my fingers is literally disintegrating.  Especially on my index finger and thumb.  I mean, what is that?  It looks like I got into a fight with a piece of sandpaper.  I wash my fingers and put lotion on them everyday.  Is it the fact that they never get any water exposure in the shower?  I don't understand.  If someone has an explanation, please share.

In cast related news, I broke down and let all the girls on my volleyball team sign my cast...as if this thing didn't already draw enough attention to itself.  Wow.  I didn't realize teenagers got that excited over signing a cast.  But oh, they did.  Every INCH of my cast is covered in illegible red sharpie.  Seriously- you can't even read it.  What fun is it if you can't even read what they wrote?  I also have both a drawing of a little person and a loaf of bread on my arm now.  Needless to say, I feel extremely mature...






Countdown to tentative cast removal: 26 days down, about 58 to go...I think.