Compact Fractures - Proof Exercise is Hazardous

I've broken a few bones in my life. I know what it feels like, the frustrations of the hard cast you can't get wet, and the overall misery of it all. Been there, done that, more times than I'd like to count. I thought that as an adult I'd kind of grown out of that broken bone phase.

Apparently not.

I was out doing my standard 5am morning run, and feeling really good for once, when I hit a slippery patch. I slowed down, but still lost my footing, and put my hands out to catch myself. Then I felt the excruciating pain in my right arm and knew exactly what that pain meant.

No. This did not just happen. Oh, but it did. And then I swore. A lot.

I stood up to get out of the muddy mess I was sitting in and got very light headed suddenly as the pain in my arm screamed with my moving. I hobbled a few steps to a corner, where a house had a tall brick awning where the sidewalk met their yard. I sat on that, put my head between my knees, and chanted "don't pass out." I've had broken wrists and arms before, but this felt a whole lot worse. And I've never wanted to black out from pain. Then I looked at my wrist. It seemed a bit . . . off. It was very subtle, but it just didn't look like a normal wrist should. I knew then I'd have to go to the ER. Perfect way to start a Monday morning.

After about 15 minutes of sitting, I managed to walk the remaining 3 blocks to my house. I quickly laid myself down on an ottoman until the tunnel vision wore off. I knew my wrist was broken, which meant a cast was inevitable. I was covered in mud and sweat, so I took a shower to clean myself up. Changing was quite the ordeal. I'm right handed, and that was the wrist I'd injured. Fantastic.

By now is was about 6:30am. So I found the nearest 24 hour emergency place and drove myself to the ER. I didn't think to call anyone because it was so early, and everyone would be getting ready for work. I later got told off by a few friends for not calling them. *shrug*

The ER was very nice to me (and amazingly empty), and filled out most of the paperwork for me since I couldn't. X-rays confirmed I had a compact wrist fracture, which needed to be set. I had to lay down at seeing my lovely disjointed broken bone x-rays. They casted me up as best they could, and gave me some pain killer prescriptions until I could see a specialist in a few days. (Turns out, when you drive yourself to the ER, they can't give you a shot of the good pain meds since you have to drive yourself back home. Yes, even the ER doc gave me the stink eye for driving myself there).

During this ER visit, I was late for work. That was an awkward phone call. Having to explain that I was ok, but at the ER, but really was ok, was fun. I spent the rest of the day on the couch. Wednesday I was sent to an orthopedic surgeon, and was set for surgery Friday. Apparently it would take pins and plates to put me back together again. The rest of the week flew by, with me really only working half days. I probably shouldn't have worked at all. It was a challenge having to do everything left handed. Make up and contact lenses were the worst. Oh yeah, and not being able to put my hair in a pony tail was just irritating.

Friday came and they kept moving my surgery to earlier in the morning. After many text messages, I found someone to take me to and from surgery at 4am, then lined up a list of babysitters for the next 24 hours to watch me. Let's just say post surgery and pain was not fun. But I watched a LOT of TV, and snuggled with my fur balls. That did seem to ease the pain a bit.

6 weeks later, I'm still in a brace and anxious to have my hand back. I can't do anything, and I'm tired of waiting for things to heal. Physical therapy should start in the next few weeks, so by the end of August I should be 100%.

The moral of all this is what people have been telling me all along. Exercise is hazardous to your health.