Thursday, March 12, 2009

What the hell is with my arm?

Before my trip to Kansas I found five old wooden Coke bottle crates next to the sidewalk on my drive to work. I stopped and picked them up. One, or both, is a gift for Yummy. Not only will she love them but she can no longer scold me for eyeballing the inventory of the Sidewalk Economy.

Upon my return I tried to transport one of the crates home. Instead of carrying them home as I did when taking them to work I tried another method. I took one of the plastic bags in my office and tied it onto the handle. The knot was inferior and I knew it. And yet I did nothing. I put the bag handles over the Segway handles and headed out.

I could have hung them on the handlebars. I could have tied a better knot. I could have tied the bag to my backpack. I could have left them in the office until I got a ride. I could have left the Segway and carried them home on the subway. Instead I drove down 16th street (on the sidewalk) with a Coke crate dangling in front of me.

A couple of miles down the road the knot came untied. It dropped the crate right in front of my right tire. As wipeouts go it was rather spectacular. I was impressed and I was the one doing it.

Someone crossing the street came scurrying over to see if I was OK. I hopped up, opened the visor on my helmet, pulled out my glasses, took off the helmet, and proclaimed what a great crash that was.

Then I broke with tradition. Instead of hopping back on and taking off I decided it was a better idea to take off my coat and backpack and sit for a minute or two.

My left arm was bothering me so I ran a series of diagnostics.
I hopped up and down a bit. A twinge.
I wiggled my fingers. A prickling sensation but full movement and tactile response.
I rotated my wrist. Ooh. OK. It works. Don't do that too much, though.
I bent my arm. Bending is possible but it hurts.
I tried to reach out. HOLY FUCKING GOD! THERE'S ANGRY BADGERS IN MY SHOULDER!
Any further motion from the elbow up was possible but the angry badgers discouraged that.
Even so, nothing broken, nothing dislocated, nothing torn. Just badgers.

I very carefully put my coat back on. I very carefully put my backpack back on. I very sternly tied a much better knot in the bag. I continued my trip home. It sucked.

As did sleeping that night. I mean, it wasn't bad. But if I tried to move in my sleep I got a warning. That morning Yummy found a kitty outside. (see a few days ago)

Yummy was kind enough to drive me to work the next day. I didn't feel like riding the Segway or the Subway. I just tried to not move it. If it needed moving I'd try to move it with my right hand or by having the fingers on my left hand walk it places. I resembled that German guy in "Dr. Strangelove".

I took the subway home and stopped at CVS for an arm sling. A slight bruise had started to work its way to the surface by bedtime.

I wore that sling all weekend and to work on Monday. Monday night I took this picture of the bruise. I don't think the picture does it justice. Some of the colors are muted by the shadow.

Tuesday and Wednesday I went slingless. I have most of my range of motion back. Stretching is the biggest no-no. There's still an ache deep in the muscle. Like a knee that needs to pop but won't.

Another week and I should be fine.

If it'll put your mind at rest, my boss is a hand surgeon. She repeated my diagnostics and did a few that I don't know. She said an X-ray would be nice, but concurred with my diagnosis.

p.s. - Seriously? Only one person suggesting books yesterday?

4 comments:

lacochran said...

That's reminiscent of a Monet. See for yourself...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Claude_Monet_038.jpg

GreenCanary said...

Like the horrible person I am, I cracked up laughing when he told me about the wipeout. As girlfriends go, I pretty much suck.

Ibid said...

Yeah, I can see the resemblance to the Monet. Kind of an impressionist version of an impressionist painting.

Mike Rhode said...

Ahhh, nice bruise.

GC, Did you push on it to see if it hurt? THAT would be a sucky girlfriend.