SUBSCRIBE VIA RSSHeather’s last words before I left to play basketball last night were, “Don’t get hurt.”
Twenty minutes later I was calling to tell her that she needed to take me to the Emergency Room.
I had just passed the basketball to a teammate when someone on the opposing team made a late swipe for the ball and T-boned my ring finger with full force. The result? A twisted and crooked resemblance of what used to be a healthy finger.
I drove home as my finger continued to swell and throb thanks in part to the gold tourniquet now choking off circulation, and pulled in the driveway to see Heather already on the front porch holding a bag of ice.
I suppose I should have left for the hospital right then and there, but I thought it’d be better to first walk in the house and gross out the kids. As I showed off my dangling jacked up digit, I reveled in all the shrieks and induced nausea.
Now I could leave for the ER.
I'm no doctor but I don't think fingers are supposed to do this.
Throughout the 15-mile drive to the hospital, every minute felt like ten. The pain and pressure were steadily increasing because of both the injury and the wedding ring, which by this time, felt like a vice. I know many men consider their wedding ring to be a vice metaphorically, but this was entirely physical for me. And it hurt like a bugger.
I told Heather we should call ahead to let them know we’re coming but she refused saying the idea was silly unless I was missing a limb or something. My reasoning was that it’d be like Call-Ahead Seating in restaurants. You know, reserve my space in line. I didn’t want to get there and be forced to sit around watching my finger blow up like a balloon just because some kid with the sniffles arrived a few minutes before me.
So, when we arrived at Registration to see an empty waiting room, I was relieved. It was just me, Heather, and a registration lady who had a good sense of humor.
Registration: “Can I help you?”
Me: “Yes, do you sell new fingers here?”
Registration: “Depends on your insurance. What happened tonight?”
Me: “Basketball. I think it’s broken.”
Registration: “Well, let me get all your information and we’ll get the nurse.”
Me: “Could you request the nurse who’s known to get heavy fisted with the pain meds?”
Heather (sighing): “I’ll apologize for him now. He’s like a 4-year old.”
Me: “Whoa! Wait a minute. This is a major serious injury. They don’t see things like this every day. How are you going to feel when I’m admitted?”
Heather: “You’re such a dork.”
Me (turning to registrar): “Seriously, tell her, how many days do you think I’ll be here?”
Registration: “For a broken finger? Could be weeks. Should we just take you right to the ICU?”
Me: “I think I’m beyond that.”
Registration: “Psychiatric ward then?”
Heather: “Oh, I like her.”
Registration (covering her mouth): “Oh, gross! I just saw your finger. Let me get the nurse.”
Me (turning to Heather): “Is it a good sign when someone in the ER gets grossed out by your injury?”
I challenge any of you to get your fingers to do a better elephant impression.
Once in triage, the nurse went through some routine questions, took my blood pressure, and asked about the pain I was experiencing.
Triage Nurse: “On a scale from 1-10, how would you describe your pain.”
Me: “An eleven.”
Heather: “Eleven? What was your hernia surgery then?”
Me: “A nine…”
Heather: “A nine?!?! All that whining and moaning and you say it was a NINE?”
Me: “…teen. I was going to say it was a nineteen.”
Me (turning to nurse): “Just for reference, splinters are about a five for me.”
Heather: “You are SUCH a wuss.”
Me: “Um, do you have any policies in place to deal with people who badger patients?”
Triage Nurse: “I’ll write down nine, that’s fine. Everyone’s different.”
Me: “In all honesty, I just don’t want to give too low a number to where I talk you out of what is obviously a very serious emergency situation.”
Triage Nurse: “I understand. Now, we’re going to have to do something about your ring. It’s creating a lot of swelling.”
Me: “That’s fine, just understand that I have a ‘You break it, you buy it’ policy. And this ring cost just a little less than one of your Advils.”
The nurse left to retrieve what looked like a little can opener for the finger. It was a crude medieval-looking device that’s also capable of extracting information from CIA operatives sworn to secrecy. She scooped it under the ring and started to twist in an effort to cut through the metal. All she did was tighten and tighten and tighten while pulling and yanking on my finger until I almost passed out from the pain.
Arm the FBI with this contraption and no crime will go unsolved.
Even as I whined and shook and yelled in pain, she kept twisting and it kept tightening. I was about to tell her who shot JFK when she stopped and said, “Wow. That didn’t even make a dent. I’m going to get Jeffrey.”
Me: “Wait. Jeffrey? What do you mean you’re going to get Jeffrey? Is he some mammoth dude with gorilla biceps? I mean, do you have to go find his handler first? Maybe unlock his cage and bribe him with a moose carcass? ‘Getting Jeffrey’ sounds frightening because it hurt when you were doing it.”
Triage Nurse: “Well, it needs to come off and Jeffrey’s a LOT stronger than me.”
Me: “Exactly! That’s my point! Don’t you have like a band saw or something you can use instead?”
The nurse left to release Jeffrey from his shackles and I turned to Heather.
Me: “We should leave.”
Heather: “Sheesh, stop being such a baby.”
Me: “A baby? Do you know what’s coming? Some gargantuan man-baboon is about to walk in here and bellow, ‘Me here to remove finger.’ And I’m gonna be all, ‘No! Dude! Not the finger, just the ring!’ And he’ll say, ‘Ring come with it. Give.’ And I’m gonna run but first you need to double-poke him in the eyes. On my say so, okay?”
Heather: “You’ll be fine. Just relax.”
The triage nurse returned to say that Jeffrey was busy and that we could wait in Room 8. I remarked that Jeffrey was only busy because he was perched atop the Empire State Building swatting at biplanes. A comment that elicited hysterical laughter from the eavesdroppers in registration.
Only because they knew it was true.
As I sat in Room 8 a nurse walked in with a syringe and asked, “Have you received a pain shot yet?”
Before I could kiss her, the doctor walked in with the ring-cutting device and the nurse said, “Oh, I’ll just come back later.”
Me: “Later?!? Hell no. Come on in. Right now I want you more than I want my wife. If it’s okay with you Doctor, I’d much rather have something for pain before we do all this stuff than after.”
Doctor: “That’s fine. Let’s give him two Vicodin.”
Me: “Vicodin? It’s not like I was struck by a pillow. This is a big time sports injury. Don’t you have shots loaded with enough narcotics to drop a rhino? That’s what I need. Pills will take forever.”
Doctor: “Well, I can give you a digital block and you won’t feel anything at all, but…”
Me: “Well, heck yeah! That should be offered first! What’s all this jazz about offering up Vicodin? I’ll take two of those shot dealios. Just put it on my tab.”
Doctor: “…I was going to say that the downside is that you’ll be numb for about five hours.”
Me: “That’s a downside? Sounds like a freakin’ Godsend. Let’s do this.”
The nurse left and then returned with a vial of happy juice for my fingers along with a bunch of Civil War-era utensils. From there it was a succession of shots at multiple insertion points and the still-painful removal of my ring.
We have vays of dealing wiv zhu.
Vicodin can suck it.
Still painful, but I couldn't imagine what it would have been like without pain meds.
Kinda looks like gold-plated toenail clippings.
During the ring removal process, Jeffrey peeked in to see if we still needed him. Turns out, Jeffrey is smaller than Heather. An orderly type of guy who didn’t look at all menacing or apeish. I felt bad about not letting him have the thrill of twisting my ring off until he said I was lucky that the doctor was there and not him.
I asked why and he explained that he wouldn’t have been allowed to offer up any pain blockers. He said, and I quote, “It just would have been you, me, and the ring cutter.”
Jeffrey’s the one who’s lucky. Because had that been the situation, I’m pretty sure Jeffrey would have been punched in the face. Especially judging by how much it hurt even with pain meds coursing through my fingers.
Once the metal tourniquet was removed, I looked up at Heather and said, “So. Are we done now? Does this mean our marriage is over? Do we just go our separate ways when we leave the hospital?”
Heather: “Don’t be a dork.”
Me: “Look at me. Heather, I just want you to know that I loved being married to you all these years. Everything we’ve been through. The kids. The tribulations. But maybe this is a sign. Maybe it’s time we sprout new wings and I run off with someone who has access to all these drugs.”
Heather: “You’re such an idiot.”
While the pain eased a bit once the ring was removed, my finger swelled up like a water balloon from the released pressure. The doctor said he now needed some x-rays to gauge the severity of the injury and to properly abuse my insurance carrier, so I marched off to the x-ray room with the technician.
It’d been a dozen or so years since I last had an x-ray, and wow, has it changed. In the past, you had to be placed under 400 pounds of lead-filled mats to prevent radiation while the technician ducked in a Panic Room pressing buttons. You were asked to lay perfectly still while sweating profusely from the sheer weight of the Hurt Locker suit you were wearing, or else you risked serving up blurry images. Then, after waiting an hour or so for processing, you had to hope and pray that the technician was able to get at least one or two usable slides from the dozens taken.
Last night, however, I just sat in a chair dressed in nothing but my basketball gear as the technician snapped away. She was still in her Panic Room though, so maybe she was just being lazy with me. I’ll probably sprout a third arm or something, but I must say it was nice to be in and out of there so quickly.
As I sat in Room 8 following the x-ray, the doctor entered to say that I had a significant dislocation, a suspected fracture, and potential tendon damage because of the degree of the displacement. He explained that I’d have to see an orthopedic doctor within 24 hours for possible treatment and options, “But first, we need to pop that finger back into proper alignment.”
He said this ominous statement while shutting a glass door that was behind the privacy curtain, making our room virtually sound-proof to the outside world.
Me: “Pop it into alignment? Sounds wonderful. Painful…but wonderful.”
Doctor (while snapping gloves onto his hands and flexing his fists): “I won’t lie, it’s not fun, but you’ll do fine.”
Me: “I might have believed you if you hadn’t slowwwwly closed the door behind you and put on your gloves like that. There’s probably only two reasons that door is ever closed. One, to prevent the patient from frightening the entire wing with his blood-curdling screams; or two, to indicate that a major interrogation is about to go down with ring cutters.”
Doctor: “We just close it for privacy.”
Me: “Just so you know, I take almost no comfort in that.”
He told me lay back and look away as he put the bone back where it was supposed to be. He then manipulated my hand and I could hear the popping as my finger was pulled, lifted, and snapped back into place. Basically, the front bone in my finger had completely slid over the top of another bone, potentially fracturing the joint in the process.
For those who don’t faint at the sight of fuzzled-up bones, here’s a snapshot of the x-ray I was able to take on the sly:
It felt about the way it looks.
By the end of the night, my finger was back in alignment and it was splinted, taped, and secured. Today’s orthopedic follow-up went fine but I’ve been referred to an orthopedic surgeon to make sure I don’t have additional damage. Hopefully I won’t need surgery but I’m told the fact that I’m experiencing numbness in the fingers on either side of the injury isn’t a good sign.
We’ll know more on Monday but I really hope I can get back on the basketball court soon.
I could always use a few more injuries in my life.
__________________________________
I hope you all appreciate just how long it took me to write this post. I haven’t had to rely on the hunt and peck method of typing since my keyboarding class in high school. While my right hand is fine, I can only move the index finger on my left hand. It usually takes me an hour to write a post and I’ll be a shade over four hours for this one. Not that I don’t love every minute of it. If by chance you feel bad, you can help offset your guilt by thinking happy thoughts for a surgery-free resolution.
My finger thanks you. My wife thanks you. And Curley’s Crew thanks you.
I'm the one with "The Ghost of Basketball Past" sweating through his shirt.
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I feel bad (well, a little bit bad) laughing so much over what is a very painful injury for you.
OMG -when I saw this I could not believe -sorry you lost the ring… Am glad you are gonna play again someday
Um, so how’d you type this. That XRay was the kicker, holy moley!
ummm….OUCH!! Bring on the pain meds and keep em coming!!! Thanks for sharing. Love how you tell a story even an icky pain-filled bones where they aren’t supposed to be story! FEEL BETTER!!!!!!!
Oh Greg, I am so sorry to hear about this. And can I just say ” OMG OWWW!!!”. I hope you don’t need surgery. You poor thing
Oh, ouch! I am sending many surgery-free vibes your way. I’m impressed by your witty and long post. That’s pretty darn good with a finger as messed up as that. It looks like your ring can now join the ghost on your shirt, sadly. At least they’ll be in good humor together.
Wow! That looks horrible! Hope it heals quickly!
Oh dear g-oooooow! So sorry about your ring.
I’ve fractured my digits plenty of times, but haven’t ever seen anything like THAT. I’d still be incoherent if I’d had to look at my finger like that. Fingers are never supposed to look like that. I hope the orthopaedic visit either gives you the good stuff, pain meds-wise, or proves you don’t need surgery.
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I was wigged out by the photos of your hand. I am now scarred for life by your x-ray! I certainly hope that you heal well and properly!
Wow.. I am really creeped out by the x-ray. Fingers definitely should NEVER look like that! I hope & pray that you will not require surgery & there’s no nerve damage. (And, I cannot type if I don’t have my fingers on the “home keys”.. if I have to go 1 handed and do the hunt and peck, I can’t find the letters on the keyboard and let’s just say, your 4 hours is probably magnificent to what it would have been had I wrote that length instead!)
Holy Hell! That X-ray looks like it hurt like a son-of-a-, well, you know.
My very first thought at the beginning of the post was “how the heck did he type this?” and the second thought was “who thinks of bringing a camera along to the ER?” I’m really not going to laugh at your injury, although I did laugh at the post. I know any kind of injury is very painful, and just because it’s “only” a finger doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like the dickens.
Ouch! I’m impressed at two things: that you are always able to find humor in every situation and that you spent four hours typing this post after going through that ordeal.
I’m praying for the best for you.
Gold plated toenail clippings – ha ha! I bet you made the day of the ER staff with your entertaining assessments. The NBA has doctors at each game. Maybe you should have recruited the Dr. for convenience sake because he could have just popped that back in place. Hope it is better now and no surgery is required.
Ouch, babe! [you must read that in your best Sammy Davis, Jr. voice]
So glad you made the effort to hunt and peck this story for us! I also can’t believe you slipped past Heather wearing Grandpa socks with shorts.
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That…was hilarious! I’ve been roughed up enough on the field as well so I’m not like, ya know, laughing at you…but you know you wrote a funny story dude!
Holy moses that is incredible!
Ouch! Feel better soon!
Oh my gosh you cracked me up, even with a oddly bent finger, and pictures I really did not need to see this morning, I had a tear at one point imagining being Heather in this situation. Hopefully you have good news on Monday and it heals quickly. What about the ring? Does it get replaced somehow?
why is your belly sweating?
When you’re 41, everything starts to leak.
In truth, it’s from me wiping my forehead. Without hair up there to absorb sweat, I drip like a rainforest canopy.
Oh, and it’s not a belly. It’s called a washboard.
I’m really sorry about your finger and all..
but I’m kind of glad it happened.
Because this post made me laugh until I cried.
So thank you, Greg’s finger, for the elephant impersonation.
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1. I found your blog through The Bloggess. I might be in love. With your writing, of course.
2. Ouch. Those are some awesome pictures.
3. I love that you went in and showed your kids first. Good dad.
Wow that sure does look painful, I hope the pain eases quickly and there’s no permanent damage.
I had to have a ring cut off once, not for injury but for fatness.
The sound of shuffling of Curley’s Crew members without your speedy feet to break it up will be deafening.
Wow. Great post – laughed throughout, but that’s one awful looking injury. Hoping for your sake you need no further surgery and it heals well and quickly.
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Oh Ouch!! I sure hope you’re finger feels better soon so you don’t have to hunt & peck forever!
Wow…. where do I begin?
I’m so sorry you were hurt. My fingers hurt just looking at the pictures. OUCH!!!
I’m sending positive and happy vibes your way for a speedy recovery and that you won’t need surgery.
I laughed so hard I almost pee’d my pants. NOT at your injury but at the stuff you were saying to the hospital staff. I bet they appreciated it too. They are probably HOPING you come back again so you can entertain them somemore.
Get well soon!!!
Oh Greg! Yikes, it hurts to look at your x-ray! Prayers and positive vibes pointed your way for a non-surgical resolution … and excellent pain meds! Something else to think about – this could be your opportunity to pick up a copy of Dragon Naturally Speaking – seriously! It would let you dictate your blog posts and then you’d just have to edit them one-handed rather than typing the entire thing! Hubs has used it for years and swears by it.
OMG! OUCHHH!!! But I haven’t laughed this hard in a while. Not AT you, Greg…but…never mind. Feel better soon!!
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I do feel bad for you and am praying that you don’t need surgery…. however, I really needed a laugh today and you provided it for me. If you really want people to feel bad for you, you shouldn’t make your blog so funny. =)
BTW, Heather is really adorable and you deserve her!
hmmm. Isn’t this post curiously close to the post where you were waxing eloquent on being the youngest fittest member of team geezer? Was the hit friendly fire?
Oh man!! That elephant finger ain’t pretty, dude, but mega-props for showing the kids and freakin’ em out LOL!! Hugs to Heather, you guys remind me sooo much of me and hubs lol
ONLY YOU could make an injury humerous!! I am really hoping no surgery is involved. Perhaps it’s still numb from the medicine (in which the nurse and Heather were probably wanting for you mouth)
I’ve always wondered.. what type of looks were you getting when you wanted to photograph the process for blogging?! LOL
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OMG that hurts just to look at!!!!!!
First: OW-HOLY-CRAP-OMG-WHAT-THE-HELL-DAYUM.
Second: Heather’s right, you are a big wuss. Then again, men don’t have to deal with monthly periods or childbirth, so it makes sense that you’re all just a bunch of wussy babies.
Third: I think it’s hilarious that your X-Ray Tech has the same initials as me. In fact, that might be where my lost markers ended up. Give me her name so I can investigate that. X-Ray markers aren’t cheap and I’d like mine back, thankyouverymuch.
Fourth: How are you seeing an Orthopedic Surgeon on Monday? It’s MLK Day. A Federal Holiday.
Fifth: Gold plated toenail clippings?? I snorted my lemonade on that one.
Sixth: I hope you got good take home drugs.
OMG, ow, ow, OWWWWW!!! That looks awful! The x-ray is really the kicker. Geez. You’re a hero for writing this post. I’ve had shots in my fingers for stitches and those were awful and I cried hysterically the whole time. I cannot IMAGINE what that felt like.
Hoping for a surgery free resolution. Not looking good…such a bummer.
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I seriously almost just passed out looking at those photos, OMG!! OUCH!!!!
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Reading this was a strange experience – how can something so painful be so funny? Oh yeah…good writing!
I so could not be a doctor or nurse, just looking at that picture (i could only actually look at the first one; I had to avert my eyes from all the others) kind of turned my stomach – thanks so much for sharing! But all nauseating pictures aside, sending you positive thoughts for a speedy and uneventful (no surgery) recovery!
When we bought my husband’s wedding band the salesman gave him a warning: If he ever hurts his finger, the ring needs to come off immediately before the swelling starts. Apparently a ring cutter won’t work on his super industrial strength symbol of our love. We laughed at the time, but eeeeeeeesh – now I get it. Happy healing thoughts sent your way.
after seeing the bench, i can honestly say that you were the obvious choice to take one for the team!
after reading the caption for that last pic, i have discovered that i too may suffer from procrastiurination!!!
your life would make an epic sitcom…
My dad did something very similar when I was young, but it was his pinky finger, not his ring finger. He also drove to the house and informed my mom that she needed to take him to the ER (pre-cell phone days). He also insisted on showing me and my sister what it looks like when the top bones of your finger slip lower than your bottom bones. His finger is still bent at the joint that slipped, so it looks like he’s always bending one knuckle of his pinky. I have to say I still remember what that looked like and its been over 20 years…so, you can look forward to those therapy bills later in life.
Oh my! I’ve never broken a finger and even though I’m an extreme Klutz the worst I’ve done is a sprained ankle lol. While I can imagine the pain you’re in I do have to say it’s a nice recap lol.
All I have to say is that your wife is a SAINT!!!!
PS…sending good vibes your way!!
Greg, I just found your blog a few days ago and I love it! I’ve read for about an hour a day trying to catch up on your (mis)adventures. Sorry about the finger. “The Ghost of Basketball Past” made me laugh out loud.
WOW! What a story and a story-teller… feel better soon!
Wow! That’s a great x-ray! I hope that you’re feeling better soon. Maybe you can get one of those voice recognition things and you can just speak all of your posts
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I shall now spend the rest of the day trying to untie myself from the knot into which I’ve twisted myself whilst reading this simultaneously painful and hysterical entry. Well done.
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“The Ghost of Basketball Past” made me crack up – too funny!
Well done (on both the injury and the post)! You are definitely an over-achiever, Greg. Do you do anything halfway? Thanks for taking the time and effort to type this out so we could be grossed-out too.
1. Sorry about the injury.
2. Thank you for the laughter.
3. You need a new ring.
My husband once lost his wedding band in a bush full of snow at the mall when he decided to evilly hit me in the back of the head with a snowball. We never found it, so I used it as an excuse to get some serious mileage.
I think that this would be an excellent excuse for a party to renew your vows or some-such. Based on your post, I think a safari theme would be apropos. Elephants and such. Heather completely deserves it for all the sympathetic looks I’m sure she received at the hospital.
Ewww totally didn’t need to see the pictures! Hope it heals up quickly for you!
Hey Greg, if you have an iPhone / iPad / iPod Touch you can download a free app called Dragon Dictation that would be helpful for typing while your finger is on vacation. It’s not perfect but I’m guessing it would save you some time since you only have to correct some things instead of typing everything from scratch.
Heal up soon!
As a nurse who works in ER, if you can zing one liners and snappy comebacks, you will live to see another day so you get to wait at the end of the line-boy I bet you are glad I wasn’t working in the ER the day you walked in. Also, those ring cutters are awesome-I hate to tell you what we used to have to do before those things came along-and I have been around long enough to know.
OUCH!!! I know that hurts! I shattered my ring finger 2 years ago and had to have surgery on it, so I can definitely sympathize with you! Every bump you hit on the road, every beat of your heart, every breath seems to hurt… hope that it heals soon and you don’t need that surgery. Maybe the numbness is still from the digital block.
You are so funny! Even when reliving pain. I wonder how much additional damage was done to your finger as they tried to cut the ring off. And it took me a second to get the caption for the Ghost of Basketball past – but LOL – you are so right! I see it!
Get well soon!
OUch and I am sorry for your pain, but your post was just plain funny! Thanks for the laugh!