Friday, March 20, 2015

A Multiplicity of Broken Things

Dear John,
 
I'm typing with one half of one hand tonight. Let me explain.
 
We were having a normal, happy Friday at work. Frank came around this afternoon with the news that I am leading the bracket competition for the bank. I was amazed and thrilled. I'm probably not ahead anymore since Wichita State beat IU this afternoon. But it was exciting while it lasted.
 
Then I made the poor decision to take a bathroom break. I was walking fast like I usually do at work, went through the break room, turned left past the sofa to go to the bathroom, caught my foot in a rolled-up rug on the floor, and down I went. At least there were no witnesses. I got a rug burn on my right knee - of no consequence whatever - and caught my weight on my hands. The floor is concrete with carpet over it, so it was a bit ouchy, but didn't seem to be anything serious. I let Danielle know about it and went back to work, after putting the offending rug under the sofa.
 
The more I did, the more my right hand hurt. When I couldn't operate the drawer with it, I decided I really should go for x-rays. So, after calls, faxes, and more calls to Human Resources, I was off to LaGrange. I could drive without much problem since the car is automatic; I just had to use my left hand for the key and gearshift.
 
To cut to the chase, since it hurts to type with half of one hand, my right elbow is broken - radial head fracture. I can't imagine how I managed that. So I'm in a sling with my right arm immobilized, with orders to do absolutely nothing with that hand and arm until I get repeat x-rays on Tuesday.
 
The good thing is that it hurts much less now that it's all immobilized. The bad news is that my left hand and wrist are hurting much more than they did earlier. Jen came by, put litter in the cat boxes for me, and will pick up whatever I need at the grocery store on Sunday. Richard is taking me to the doctor on Tuesday. Danielle is trying to figure out what on earth I can do at work without using my right hand and arm.
 
You should see me try to eat. It's almost as funny as when I tried to feed myself when I had shingles. I was trying to get a turkey pie into a spoon in my left hand, while the animals lurked around hoping I'd drop all of it, and I couldn't stop giggling. I'm so glad the tournament is on. I can't do housework, can't even knit, so basketball should preserve what scraps of sanity I have. I can't imagine how I'll fasten a bra or do my hair.
 
But tomorrow I have no need to look respectable, so I will do neither. I'll sleep in, wear sweats, eat finger food, and watch basketball. Jethro will be frustrated because I can't pet him with my right hand and the cats will continue to explore the sling.
 
*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
 
I just heard something odd, checked the basement, and discovered that the furnace is out again. They put in new igniters on February 17th and 28th, and will probably give me yet another one tomorrow. There appears to be an undiagnosed underlying problem. I will attempt to address that issue when they get here.
 
You might not want to come visit right now. We seem to have lots of things breaking and I'd hate to add you to the list. Sleep well tonight, far from the carnage that surrounds me today. Between friends, family, and NIPSCO, I'm being well-looked-after. I could probably use some prayers, though, that nothing else breaks.
 
Your slightly dented wife,
Joan.

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