The Break


In the course of re-drilling the holes through the 6×6 posts that will form the uprights of an outdoor chinup/gymnastic ring setup, the drill bit got bound up, and the drill spun, taking my right hand with it through about 135 degrees of clockwise rotation. Something in the hand did not approve of this course of  action, and went “pop.”

I dropped the drill, said, “Ow! Shit!” and went inside to get some ice and cold water on it to prevent swelling (I took off the titanium band on that ring  finger, just in case) and assess the damage.

At which point, shock kicked in, and I went from uncomfortable but functional to woozy to “Where is my alarm clock, if I’m just waking up from a restful night’s sleep, replete with prosaic dreams?” I apparently blacked out for ten or fifteen seconds, including a few seconds of seizure-like twitching. Fortunately, K caught me and lowered me to the floor, then called 911. Minor, if completely justified, freaking out ensued, as did treating me for shock and getting me an ice pack for the hand.

Ten or fifteen minutes later, a couple of EMTs arrived to give me the once-over. I was still on the floor, just in case, and had a couple towels over me because I was apparently cold and clammy, but otherwise awake, aware, and was offering to talk to the dispatcher.

In any case, I didn’t need to go to the hospital, and, germane to the usual content here, I ended up talking proteins and supplements with the EMTs after they confirmed that, yes, I’ll live, and am otherwise in good health. BP was 124/82, glucose 113. “If it still hurts in a couple hours, or feels like something isn’t right, go to a walk-in clinic.”

Two hours or so later, noticing that, yep, it still hurts, we adjourned to a Doctor’s Walk-In Clinic, where I was on an exam table before finishing the three pages of intake paperwork. They took the X-Ray you see above (though the source image is about 7x bigger and doesn’t include helpful arrows), wrapped that hand and forearm in a splint (which makes typing and mousing a bitch and a half  - this has taken ten minutes to bang out one-and-a-half-handed), referred me to an orthopedic surgeon, and gave me a scrip for a painkiller.

I haven’t taken any of the latter, and don’t really expect to. I haven’t even popped an aspirin, actually; just drank a couple glasses of milk, had some home-made beef jerky, and my evening round of supplements (fish oil, vitamin D, tribulus terrestris).

Further updates once I see a specialist, I suppose. If there’s no lifting in my future for a while, I guess I have no choice but to be somewhat serious about doing cardio/energy system training for a 10k a bunch of friends are looking to do on Thanksgiving.

4 Comments

  1. Irony: Injuring yourself building a chinup bar that you now can not use.

    • To quote Jay for a sec here: “Yeah, yeah, yeah… bite me.”

  2. Yikes! What can an orthopedic surgeon do for a break?

    • Conventional wisdom seems to be “screw it back together so it can heal.”

      I head out in about 20 minutes, so I reckon I’ll know first-hand (HA!) soon enough.


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