Giving myself the finger
This morning I emptied my dishwasher. Now if that’s not the beginning of a great story, I don’t know what is.
I pulled out my Complimentary Cereal Bowl when it suddenly slipped from my grasp. I managed to grab it in mid-air and keep it from crashing to the floor. (note to self, buy a broom just in case) When I snagged it with my cat-like reflexes, the smallest digit of the pinky on my right hand bent up on the lip of the bowl. I heard a pop.
Normally, snaps, crackles and pops near a cereal bowl are good things. This was not so good. I immediately noticed that I could not straighten out my finger. Here’s a picture if you want to get a little grossed out. It hurt. It didn’t hurt when I laid it out flat on the counter. So I fixed up a little splint with some tape and the handle from a plastic knife from Wendy’s. That was better.
I called my mom, the NP and asked for some quick medical advice. She said, “Oh, you’ve got trigger finger. Get it X-rayed and have someone check it out.” I went to the medical center nearby. I was out of there in about an hour with a splint on my little finger and orders to avoid anything that I didn’t feel like doing. That’s right, I have medical permission to milk this any way I want.
The tendon that holds that last digit out straight snapped. Boy if that doesn’t make you take the fragility of the human body into consideration, what will?
I have to leave the splint on for at least 6 weeks. I should see a hand surgeon as soon as possible to see if we can re-attach the tendon. I’m waiting for my doctor to get back to me on that.