Handy...
I injured my hand 2 weeks ago while playing in a tournament...
Sorry about these details mom, maybe you should skip this paragraph... the game was intense; we were playing one of our arch-rivals, a team who were known to play very physical basketball. I had been playing in a way I hadn't in years, coming off screens so close I could see sweat beads forming on my player's face... My center was being beaten by any means necessary, deriving us of our primary scoring option... after being humiliatingly blocked taking a 3, I started to heat up, knocking down textbook-pretty jumpers from all over the court, fighting off my defender who had decided that today was the day to act like my skin and stay stuck to me... slowly we pulled away, needing only 2 more baskets to win... I came off another screen, my defender still holding me as he had the entire game... yet this time, instead of holding my shirt, he was holding my hand... I felt a sharp sting, but kept going... my team-mate delivered yet another perfect pass, I pulled my arms back towards my chest, caught the ball in stride, then let the ball fly, rotating through the net with a snap... my hand was still up in its shooting stance... that's when I saw my pinky dangling...
I grabbed it and pushed it back, feeling a pop... but it was still a little loose... so I punched the wall...
Not the most intelligent thing I've even done... adrenaline is a hell of a drug...
2 weeks later, the bruising has gone down, but the pain still hadn't, so after much prodding from fellow AYAD's, including a rather scary email linking to a medical journal describing the "high rate of morbidity" for hand injuries gone unchecked, I finally made a trip to the United Hospital to have an x-ray...
After a painless registration, I was asked what I needed done... I replied, naturally, that I needed an x-ray...
2 minutes of bewildered looks and confusion followed...
The staff asked me who had referred me... I replied that I was there of my own accord, I needed to make sure I didn't have a fracture...
10 minutes later, with now 6 staff "helping" me, I still could not convince them that I was of sound enough mind to be able to determine whether I needed an x-ray or not... so we headed to emergency, where a doctor proceeded to prod and poke my hand until finally he determined that yes, an x-ray was needed...
The x-ray was taken; I need to find a way to post the results on here, for some reason, completely devoid of any influence by me, the x-ray staff manouvered my hand into the Big Bangs hand-sign... hilarious...
This is where it got wierd... people started running around, frantic, talking about me in Bangla, looking very concerned...
My confidence is starting to wither at this point...
30 minutes later, I finally see someone with my x-ray... I grab it from him, take it out of the envelope and have a look...
There's no fracture.
So why the panic? No idea...
I'm a lot happier now, but the ordeal isn't over... another half-hour later (that's right), I'm escorted to another doctor, because I can't be trusted to evaluate an x-ray...
The doctor takes my x-ray, places it in the holder, turns the light on, looks at it for 3 seconds, turns the light off, hands the x-ray back to me and says there's no fracture, have a good night.
Oh, and he tells me to lay off my hand for 10 days... no typing, no basketball...
Good luck with that...
Sorry about these details mom, maybe you should skip this paragraph... the game was intense; we were playing one of our arch-rivals, a team who were known to play very physical basketball. I had been playing in a way I hadn't in years, coming off screens so close I could see sweat beads forming on my player's face... My center was being beaten by any means necessary, deriving us of our primary scoring option... after being humiliatingly blocked taking a 3, I started to heat up, knocking down textbook-pretty jumpers from all over the court, fighting off my defender who had decided that today was the day to act like my skin and stay stuck to me... slowly we pulled away, needing only 2 more baskets to win... I came off another screen, my defender still holding me as he had the entire game... yet this time, instead of holding my shirt, he was holding my hand... I felt a sharp sting, but kept going... my team-mate delivered yet another perfect pass, I pulled my arms back towards my chest, caught the ball in stride, then let the ball fly, rotating through the net with a snap... my hand was still up in its shooting stance... that's when I saw my pinky dangling...
I grabbed it and pushed it back, feeling a pop... but it was still a little loose... so I punched the wall...
Not the most intelligent thing I've even done... adrenaline is a hell of a drug...
2 weeks later, the bruising has gone down, but the pain still hadn't, so after much prodding from fellow AYAD's, including a rather scary email linking to a medical journal describing the "high rate of morbidity" for hand injuries gone unchecked, I finally made a trip to the United Hospital to have an x-ray...
After a painless registration, I was asked what I needed done... I replied, naturally, that I needed an x-ray...
2 minutes of bewildered looks and confusion followed...
The staff asked me who had referred me... I replied that I was there of my own accord, I needed to make sure I didn't have a fracture...
10 minutes later, with now 6 staff "helping" me, I still could not convince them that I was of sound enough mind to be able to determine whether I needed an x-ray or not... so we headed to emergency, where a doctor proceeded to prod and poke my hand until finally he determined that yes, an x-ray was needed...
The x-ray was taken; I need to find a way to post the results on here, for some reason, completely devoid of any influence by me, the x-ray staff manouvered my hand into the Big Bangs hand-sign... hilarious...
This is where it got wierd... people started running around, frantic, talking about me in Bangla, looking very concerned...
My confidence is starting to wither at this point...
30 minutes later, I finally see someone with my x-ray... I grab it from him, take it out of the envelope and have a look...
There's no fracture.
So why the panic? No idea...
I'm a lot happier now, but the ordeal isn't over... another half-hour later (that's right), I'm escorted to another doctor, because I can't be trusted to evaluate an x-ray...
The doctor takes my x-ray, places it in the holder, turns the light on, looks at it for 3 seconds, turns the light off, hands the x-ray back to me and says there's no fracture, have a good night.
Oh, and he tells me to lay off my hand for 10 days... no typing, no basketball...
Good luck with that...
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