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Overcoming the red beast to keep up with the stats Saturday, May 17, 2008 By Micki Bare Blaming our dog might make me feel better, but in all honesty the door slamming shut on my thumb tearing essential ligaments was my own fault. She was not responding well to the word stay, but ultimately, I was the one who attempted to slam a door from inside the house while gripping the outside knob.<br/><br/>Upon realizing two days later that the pain was not about to subside, I grudgingly made an appointment with an orthopedic specialist. By then, my thumbnail had a beautiful gradation of pink and purple hues like a sunset. My thumb was a bit puffy like the clouds.<br/><br/>After x-raying my hand, I got the excellent news that none of my bones had even the slightest fracture. As a matter of fact, my phalanges and metacarpal bones were textbook perfect. Of course, what went through my mind next was that it must be a heck of a bruise.<br/><br/>What went through the doctor's mind next had nothing to do with severe contusions. He began wiggling my injured thumb. Not only did the "exam" as he called it - I prefer the term torture - cause a Mauna Kea Mountain-sized spike in pain, it also revealed that my thumb had quite a range of movement. <br/><br/>Apparently, range in movement is not a good thing, as it indicates that the ligaments that used to hold my thumb in place were now torn. <br/><br/>Luckily for me, the damage did not require surgery. However, my doctor seemed quite determined to keep the thumb still so it could heal. I envisioned a brace of some sort. The doctor ordered a cast. Then he mentioned that I could pick out any color I wanted for the cast, as if that would bring a writer out of the stunning realization that a hard, clunky beast would soon inhibit the ability to manipulate a computer mouse and press the space bar, among other important keys.<br/><br/>How would a mother of three in a cast of any color make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, set up the coffee to brew or fold laundry? I must note here that Hubby was quite amused by the fact that I entertained concern over sandwich making, coffee brewing or laundry folding as I haven't done any of these chores in months, maybe years.<br/><br/>Still, a cast was going to be quite inconvenient. And since my x-rays clearly depicted perfect bones, was it really necessary? <br/><br/>The nurse assigned to creating my cast cheerfully asked what color I preferred as she began organizing supplies. Again with the color. What was so great about any color cast? <br/><br/>I didn't have a lot of time to make a decision. Had I put some thought into it, I probably would have picked something that blended better with my professional wardrobe. At least I stayed away from the neon colors. <br/><br/>In the heat of the moment, I went with red, justifying it as the perfect choice for both a woman in an all-male household and a graduate of NC State University.<br/><br/>In Wal-Mart the next day, Hubby thanked me for choosing red because I was really easy to find in the crowd.<br/><br/>As the bright red color has mercifully faded over the past few weeks, I have adapted as well as anyone forced to give a thumbs up to everything all the time possibly could.<br/><br/>Driving primarily with my left hand came easy, most likely because I learned how to drive a standard shift as a youth and my current vehicle is an automatic. Other than driving, everything else I do evidently required the use of my right thumb.<br/><br/>Typing isn't so bad now that I am used to using nine fingers. I've trained my left hand to handle the mouse, though I still accidentally "right click" often, slowing me down a bit.<br/><br/>When I have meetings, I dress in black with red accessories. Hubby said it works as far as coordinating versus clashing, but it doesn't really tone down the giant red beast.<br/><br/>Keeping the cast dry has been extremely challenging, however, the nurse's tip to double-bag my arm helped. I also chose to go with trash bags instead of bread bags, as has been suggested, based on past experience, by everyone who notices the red beast dangling from my elbow. <br/><br/>My greatest challenge? Keeping score at my boys' baseball games. My handwriting, for which I still use my right fingers, is weak, slow and atrocious. Keeping up with balls and strikes, runs and outs is labored as I manipulate the pencil across the tiny "ball fields" in each box on the pages of my book.<br/><br/>The faded red cast will be removed this week. And while I've adjusted, I will be thrilled to head to my appointment and at last free my thumb from captivity. <br/><br/>Hubby just looks forward to a good night's sleep during which he has no chance of being accidentally smacked in the noggin by the rigid, red arm-beast.<br/><br/><br/><br/>-------<br/><br/>Micki Bare is a columnist for the Arkansas News Bureau and the Courier-Tribune in Asheboro, N.C., and author of the book, "Relative Expressions." She lives in Asheboro with her husband and three children. Her e-mail address is mickibare@inspiredscribe.com.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/> |
