|Meet my new best friend.|
The trauma specialist took an interest in me after hearing how I'd broken my arm. He must not see that many active geezers so maybe I brightened his day. Before manually reducing my fracture he told me he was going to give me a shot to numb things up a bit. I watched as he struggled to draw the dose into the syringe. After an unsuccessful attempt he asked one of the nurses for an 18 gauge needle. Now I'm a molecular biologist working at a human nutrition research lab and am very familiar with needle sizes--an 18 gauge needle has about the bore size of a Pasteur pipette. For those outside of the allied health & science fields, we're talking huge! I steeled myself for what I figured was coming next and got busy with my "game face". He looked over and must have realized that I knew something about needle sizes because he said "don't worry, I'll change back to a 27 gauge once I draw the local out of this vial". And so he did. A physician's assistant held the palm and fingers of my hand while the attending physician grabbed my forearm and elbow. He tweaked the alignment on either side of the break while viewing an endless string of images via some sort of soft xray device. I noticed that he and his assistants all wore lead aprons but didn't offer me one. I suppose at my age they assume my fathering days are behind me! After setting the bones to his satisfaction, his minions quickly cast my arm from palm to elbow before the alignment could change and that was that. His final instruction before disappearing was for me to sleep with my arm vertical to avoid swelling--I tried by propping my arm with a pillow but failed at that bit of advise! He also told me that although my break didn't require surgical reduction, the time I'd be in cast (and off the ice) would be shorter if I wanted to go that route. He said that I could mull that over and make a decision next week when I go to his office for follow up visit. After he left a nurse came and gave me final instructions. He then asked how I proposed getting home. I indicated that I'd driven to the hospital with a broken arm and assumed I'd be able to leave the same way. He said that they couldn't forbid my plan but that they strongly discouraged it. I asked him to point me in the general direction of the parking garage. I got home fine. Diaristwoman poured me a glass of Merlot and told me that a skating friend from her work recommended that I hereafter avoid doing the "slutz". I feel just like Rodney Dangerfield.
So, two steps forward towards returning to the ranks of credible skaters and one step back. Obviously there will be no gamma test for me tomorrow. This blog will also take a short break--ha ha, short break--get it? But, no worries, I'll be back. I've heard it said that there's two kinds of skaters in this world: ones who've already broken a bone and those who will...
Until next time, smooth ice,
Yr faithful Diarist