Three weeks ago today I broke my right wrist playing hockey. Wait, let me rephrase that. Three weeks ago today I broke my right wrist falling on the ice.
I wish the story was as good as “I was playing hockey, and I went for the puck, and somehow broke my wrist.” I wish I could say “During a chippy play, a stick came down on my wrist and it really hurt.”, maybe I could even say “Joel (Info-Tech’s CEO) cross checked me from behind with such force that I crashed into the boards and broke my wrist in two places.”.
I WISH I could say that, but that didn’t happen.
Three weeks ago, a bunch of us from work got together at the John Labatt Center in London for a little game of shinny. It was an awesome surface that’s MILES above my skating and playing level. I haven’t laced up skates in 5 years, and even back then I was just getting back into hockey. My first shift on the ice, I got posession, and couldn’t figure out who was who, and promptly dumped the puck…dumb move. I started to get my steam towards the half way mark, and thought I might be able to hold my own by the end of the night.
There I was. Standing there, all by myself, about to skate back down the ice. I leaned back on my skates a little, because I was lazy, and fell on my tailbone. I went straight down, in what would normally rock my world, but I was wearing my mouth guard, so I didn’t concuss myself. Instead, my wrist bent back because I was still holding my stick.
I instantly skated off onto the bench, thinking I had jarred my wrist and that in a few seconds it would be okay. I tore my gloves off and yelled a profanity as I tried to shake it off, but it wouldn’t shake off.
I decided I’d better go to the dressing room and get some ice on the thing. As I was waiting for one of the attendants to get some ice, I started to feel the tell tale signs of a black-out. See, that’s one of the fun little reactions of my body to pain. Doesn’t matter if it’s a tattoo, or a sprained ankle, I start to hear the far away echo’s, and the long hallway tunnelvision, and the little black spots around my edges. I sat down, and willed myself to remain conscious, determined that the guys wouldn’t walk into the dressing room to find me unconscious.
I then took off my gear, one handed, and headed out to my car (as the guys were coming in off the ice). I drove (stick) to the hospital, and went to Urgent Care.
I was only in there for about an hour, and I got an x-ray, and got to see a doctor. He said it looked like a sprain, but I’d be fine. Take Ibuprofin for the swelling, and wrap it if I needed.
Thursday kind of sucked, but I managed to massage it to a state where I could type, and on Friday I was feeling mostly okay, except I couldn’t fully close it, and the wrist bone was starting to hurt. Saturday things felt worse, and every time I picked up Maks was agony (and the little dude loves to rough me up). I was resigned to making a Dr’s appointment on Monday when Char told me there was a message from Urgent Care.
Turns out the doctor missed the break, and I needed to go back.
I headed back, and they were ready for me, about 30 minutes later I left with an appointment for the HULC (Hand and Upper Limb Clinic), and a half cast.
At the HULC on Wednesday, I was told I had broken both sides of my wrist, and did some ligament damage (most likely while I was without a cast, because the initial x-ray didn’t show the ligament damage), so I got cast up in a slick fiberglass cast, and sent home.
I go in this morning to hopefully get this stupid thing removed and a soft cast on (it’s HELLA hard to type and mouse with this thing, not to mention draw, or anything else), and other than a little swelling initially, and some chafing right now, things have been pretty good. I feel like it’s healing up really well now, and hopefully it will be good news in the morning. Stay tuned for an update!