Sometimes in life, you get thrown a curve ball. Some people get more than others, some are lucky enough to go through life with none at all. I have to say, I’ve been lucky enough, to have had very few curve balls thrown my way, but got a doozie, this past week.
I was out walking the two dogs I’m sitting for, it was after dark and approximately, minus five degrees. We had walked about three hundred yards from the house, when a snow white rabbit hopped across the road in front of us. One dog saw it and tried to take off in the direction of the rabbit, the other dog just got excited and was jumping around. I was trying to control both dogs and didn’t see the eight inch step up in front of me and slipped, fell and landed on my left wrist. The pain was instant and excruciating and now that I was on the ground, flopping around like a fish out of water, moaning and I must admit, swearing a bit, and trying to get the leash from my left hand that was no longer usable, into my right, I was being mauled by the dogs. The dogs thought I was playing with them and forgot all about the rabbit that was now, down over the hill, on the opposite side of the road. They were jumping on me, licking me, wagging their tails like I was just the best thing since sliced bread. I got to my knees and begged the dogs to just SIT. They were great, maybe they could tell by my quivering voice that I was hurt or maybe they thought I’d lay down again, so they could jump on me, I don’t know. I rose to my feet and with both dogs now tethered to my other hand, walked slowly back to the house. I didn’t cry!
I knew that I had either sprained my wrist REALLY bad, or broke it. I couldn’t move my fingers very well, but even the thought of moving my thumb, would send electrical shock waves through my body, warning me not to consider moving it again. The dogs were really well behaved walking back to the house, maybe they knew something was wrong by my (throw back to childbirth),Lamaze breathing. I was just praying that we wouldn’t encounter another rabbit while walking back up the driveway, rabbits, seem to be everywhere. Once back in the house, I asked the dogs to sit, which they very kindly did. I had to take my gloves off, jacket, hat and neck warmer before I could take their leashes off. Thankfully, the dogs sat still while my useless right hand tried to manipulate the clips on their collars and once off, the dogs booked it for the living room.
I went straight to the freezer to get some ice for my now, blown up like a balloon, throbbing hand. There were no knuckles showing, fingers swollen and straight like sausages, and my wrist was almost half again as big as my right wrist. There wasn’t any black and blue that usually comes with a bad sprain, so that was my second inkling, that more than likely, it was broken. I put the ice in a zip lock bag, grabbed a dish towel and went to the dining room table. I was now dealt the task of trying to balance the ice over my wrist while wrapping the towel around my throbbing hand, with the useless appendage that hangs from my right shoulder. I never had great dexterity with that right hand and now I was willing it, to PLEASE, PLEASE, cooperate with the rest of me! It only took six or seven tries before I had it wrapped tight enough to hold the ice in place, yet loose enough to not cause more pain. I went to the bathroom and was fortunate enough to find an ace bandage in the first drawer I looked in. I’m care-taking a business for some friends and I’m not the type to snoop in cabinets or drawers and felt really guilty looking for that ace bandage, but relieved upon finding it in the first drawer I looked in. After wrapping my hand, ice, and dish towel in the newly found ace bandage, I finally sat on the couch to assess my options. I was two hours away from any medical treatment, it was now about 6PM and pitch dark. The nearest neighbors that I could call were an hour and a half away. I decided to just wait it out. After all, I’m in Alaska, where I love to be. Many people live much more remote than I am, what would their options be? They could wait for help, or treat their injury themselves. The ice began to melt and was leaking out of the Zip Lock bag, and down my arm towards my elbow, OOhhhhhh.
I had to take the whole thing apart and regroup. While my hand was out from under the ice pack, I checked it over thoroughly. I didn’t see any deviation in my wrist or thumb and contemplated....if it was broken, what would the clinic do, put a cast on it to hold it in place until the bones healed? If it was sprained, they would wrap it in an ace bandage until it healed. I decided I would deal with this myself.
The dogs had to go out to relieve themselves one more time before I went to bed and I was dreading it. It was really cold out and I was still shaking from the trauma. I asked the dogs to sit and reached for the leash that I now had to clip to their collars that were wrapped around anxious wiggling necks, buried in thick hair, with a right hand that refuses to listen to brain commands, all the while, protecting my left hand from any inherent wagging tails or licks of gratitude for taking them outside again! I reached for my down jacket with my right hand and slowly slid my left down into the sleeve. The bundle that was wrapped around my hurting hand would not go all the way through the end of the sleeve, fine, it was good enough for me. Reaching back with my right arm, I slid into the jacket and pulled it into place. I looked down and there.... was another curve ball... waiting for me.......I couldn’t zip my jacket! My left hand was bundled up inside my sleeve and there was no way that the fumbling filanges, on my right hand, that won’t listen to my brain, were going to work that tiny zipper by themselves, no matter how hard I tried. I took one dog at a time, jacket wide open, blowing in the breeze, out to do their business. Another thing puzzles me. Why do dogs have to walk in circles, seventy-six times before they find the right spot to “go,” it makes me nuts! After what seemed like forever, I finally made it into the house, settled the dogs down and headed down the hall to go to bed, it was now 10:30PM.
Another one..... I couldn’t take my pull over off, without removing the nicely wrapped broken hand that was finally numb from the ice. I thought about just sleeping with my polar fleece top on, but decided I would sleep better if I was comfortable, so began the process of unraveling my frozen stump of a hand. Once the ace bandage and dish towel were loose, the now melted ice ran all over my pillowcase, more fun. I went to the bathroom and discovered that using your non-dominant hand is not pleasant, at all! Why in heaven’s name won’t that hand listen. Is it connected to the upstairs wiring at all? I tried pulling up three layers of pants, underwear, long johns and jeans, but that was also a disaster, everything was twisted and no matter how much I wiggled and tugged, it was futile, they were all rolled together. I dropped them right there! I turned the hot water faucet on and filled my hand with soap from the dispenser on the counter and gingerly, washed my poor swollen left hand that has served me so well, independent of any help from the right hand for the past fifty-seven years. Putting any pressure on my dripping left hand, by drying it with a towel was out of the question. My hair dryer was sitting on the counter, so with the dysfunctional right hand, I tried for five minutes or so, before getting the darn plug into the outlet that was eye level on the wall. I turned the dryer on and let the warm air dry my hand. It felt so, good.
I wanted to brush my teeth and started to laugh, what else was I going to do! After a fashion, I managed to squeeze the toothpaste onto my tooth brush and picked it up and luckily got the tooth brush into my mouth, without smearing my face, but there was a problem. I couldn’t for the life of me, get my wonderful right hand, to brush up and down or back and forth. I found myself trying to hold my hand still and move my head back and forth and up and down. I looked like a two year old handed a toothbrush for the first time. I’m glad there are no neighbors or hidden cameras, it must have been quite the sight! Now that I was washed and ready for bed, I took a Tylenol P.M, and an Ibuprofen, recommended by the medical site, regarding broken wrist symptoms and treatment, I had checked out, on the computer.
It was time to wrap the throbbing hand again. This time, I thought, hhhmmm, what if I filled the zip lock bag with snow, it would mold to my hand and not be so painful? So, quickly, I opened the slider, stepped out on the deck and scooped up handfuls of snow and filled the bag, but not fast enough, I was chilled to the bone!
After wrapping my hand again, I remembered that I still had to load the wood-stove. How in the world would I be able to do that! The night was getting longer by the minute! Luckily, I had bought in enough wood earlier in the day to at least get me through the night. Loading the stove wasn’t as bad as I imagined. I just laid the log centered on my right hand and let it roll into the front opening in the stove, three sticks and I called it good, closed the door, set the damper and headed to bed. I was still traumatized by the thought of my first broken bone ever, chilled to the core, shaking uncontrollably, and utterly exhausted! I just wanted to crawl under the down comforter, lay my head down on a dry pillow and sleep. No, that was not going to happen. I, tossed and turned, raised my injured hand up on a pillow to see if I could stop the throbbing but nothing worked. After what seemed like days, I went into the living room, grabbed my computer and took it back to the bedroom, plugged it in and slid a movie into the DVD slot, thinking I might fall asleep while being distracted by the movie. It worked for a while until the movie was over. I was up and back on the couch in the living room by 4AM, with a cup of coffee, in the hand that would have to help me out, for the next four to six weeks. I hoped it would buck up and start earning the name “helping hand.”
I knew my friends Susie and Alan were in Fairbanks, so about 8AM I called them on their cell phone and asked if they were still in town and could they possibly do me a favor. Would they please pick up a wrist splint with Velcro closures and thumb restraint, they said sure and asked what had happened, I told them about my slip, I also asked if they’d pick up a bag of Tostito corn chips, so I could make an easy nacho dinner for myself.
Susie & Alan arrived late in the afternoon, and helped put the splint on my hand, oh, it felt good, maybe it was aligning my hand in the right position, I don’t know, but it felt better than the ace bandage. Alan bought in a load of wood for me, for the wood-stove. What a relief! They brought in the few groceries I had asked them to pick up in town. They retrieved the mail from the screen house and the few packages still in the sled and were on their way back out on the Denali Highway, to the Lodge. It was after 5PM, and I was hungry. I tried to open the bag of chips, but with one hand, it wasn’t working. I opened the drawer to get the scissors, only to realize I couldn’t use them in my right hand. I could not get the signal from my brain, down into the fingers that were just sitting there, in their own little world, to open or close those scissors. I laid the bag of chips on the counter, put my belly up against the counter and gave the bag an elbow shot, that any WWF fighter would be proud of. The bag did pop open and chips were all over the toaster and counter. Luckily, it opened towards the back-splash and not onto the floor! I went to the fridge to get the jar of salsa and guacamole only to learn that opening the jar would test my patience beyond, belief. It only took a mere forty-five minutes to put some chips, salsa and guacamole on a plate so I could eat my dinner!
I woke up around 5AM on Friday and the arm was just throbbing. I was a bit concerned that there might be a bone fragment floating around, so around 9AM, I called the clinic in Delta, about 120 miles away, and asked if they could do an X-ray. They said yes, but they closed at noon. I'm left handed, and broke the left wrist, hmm, could I drive all that way using only, my useless, right hand? I thought about it for a while, wondering if there was anyone that could drive me......The closest neighbor, Bert the trapper, was 1 1/2 hrs away and who knew when he could get here, or even if I could get in touch with him, so I decided to drive myself. I couldn't leave the dogs alone for the day, so loaded them in the back of the Suberu and headed north. It was sunny when I left the house, but heading up and over the Alaska Range, the clouds were hanging thick and heavy. It started to snow and blow and the road was covered in places and I was a wreck! Coming around Rainbow Mountain, it was a full blown white out. That's all I need, is to get stuck in a blizzard, and not be able to zip my coat! I started to call all angels to watch over me, and they did a great job! I made it there just fine.
The people at the clinic were very cordial. I have to tell you, it was 12* there, blowing like a banshee! A wee bit chilly! It was worth the trip, the wrist WAS broken in two places, and the really HOT Russian Doctor was dreamy and very attentive! He wanted to put a cast on my arm, but I said no, that I lived alone and needed to take a shower, so I'd be happy if I could keep the Velcro splint on. Reluctantly, he agreed and helped me put the splint back on, said it was a good one, and that I needed to keep it on for the next six weeks and be careful with it. Before I left, he asked if I had any questions or if there was anything he could do for me?.............All I could think of was, Would you come and cook dinner for me? But... I'm a chicken, and just said no. He told me I should come back next week, for another X-ray to make sure everything was healing correctly, but that he would not be there. Needless to say, there's no reason for me to go back then, is there?
It’s been a week today since I fell, and I have to say, I am coping quite well! Dealing with a broken wrist, even if it is my left one, is not nearly as bad as spraining my ankle or crunching my back. I just think how lucky I am that my wrist will heal in a few weeks, it could have been much, much worse!
Life may throw you a curve ball, but you have to do your best, to knock it out of the park and get back in the game!
