Old School Healing


After nearly two weeks of wearing an old school plaster cast on my right arm that totally isolated my thumb I got to go to the fracture clinic yesterday where I was told I would receive a waterproof cast.  And not a moment too soon.  My cast looks all clean and white in this picture but after nearly two weeks I looked like I was halfway through putting on my Zombie Mummy Halloween costume and I smelled like a dumpster. On garbage day. In August.

I will admit that I've been feeling a little dodgy about going to my local hospital since my traumatic c section experience, but the folks in the ER that put on my cast were lovely.  And they gave me Tylenol 3.  Which is more than I can say for the folks in the maternity ward.

No, I'm not bitter at all.  I always hoped to have my very own case of PTSD before I hit 40.  Dreams! Realized!

I was told that I should block off 4 hours for my appointment yesterday in case they were running behind.  Hey, at least they were honest about it.  The good news is they were only running 1 hour behind and in that hour I was able to sit outside and call into the office and take part in an important meeting I didn't want to miss out on.  If I could drive a car or successfully bathe myself right now that sentence would make me sound like a grown up.

My appointment went something like this:

(a small child is crying in the curtained off area next to mine)

Technician: You're not gonna cry are you?
Me: No promises.

(the doctor walks in and introduces himself)

Me: How are you?
Doc: Better than you.

The doctor looks kind of like that drunk doctor in the Law & Order pilot. You know the one I mean. Which is to say, respectable and in a hurry to get to lunch.

Doc: (looking at two week old x rays) You broke your wrist.
Me: I know.  I've been in a cast for two weeks.
Doc: I'm putting you in a removable splint. Come back in 4 weeks.

And POOF with that he was gone.  Gone, I presume, to try and touch his finger to his nose while Michael Moriarty looks at him with a combination of disappointment and righteous indignation.

Me: Is there anything I shouldn't do?
Technician: Don't do anything that would make it hurt.  That would be bad.

He also told me that this doctor is 3 months away from retirement and that "anyone else" would have given me another cast, but this guy is "old school".  That can't be a bad thing can it?

Anyway, it feels ok and I can take it off to shower, so I'm going to choose to think of this as progress.

It looks a little S&M and a little bit Victorian which is appropriate since this is Victoria Day weekend.

In conclusion: pray for me!


  1. Knowing you have those Tylenol 3s eases my mind. I'm only mildly concerned about what you may be washing them down with!

    PS: I'd put an LOL, but I never put an LOL. If people don't get my LOLs, to heck with them. And you're a gal who gets an LOL without having to be told it's an LOL.

    Looks pretty good, but didn't it come in any springtime colours?

  2. Haha! What does that mean when a doctor is 'old school', that would make me nervous! That is hilarious.

    Glad you got the cast off!


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