Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Phil's Finger

The day for Phil's appointment for his finger finally arrived. It had felt better after ten days, but hasn't improved much since then.

Phil asked yesterday if we were going with him to the appointment. "When it first happened, I thought about someone touching it, and the idea of a doctor poking and tugging made me think I would pass out. What if I pass out at the doctor's tomorrow? But, no, that probably won't happen. It feels so much better now than it did at first."

The idea of keeping four energetic boys entertained in the waiting room for some hour or so didn't sound overly appealing, so we stayed home.

Phil and the doctor were sitting in chairs, talking about his injury. The doctor, trained specially in sports medicine, touched various places on the finger. Phil said it felt like a bruise or a pinch: it hurt, but it didn't hurt.

Then, suddenly, he said, "I'm going to pass out now."

And the doctor said, "Oh! Put your knees up! Put your head down!" But they were sitting on chairs, and how do you bring your knees up on a little chair? How do you lean back when sitting against the wall?

Phil didn't pass out then, or at all. He stopped to get an uncharacteristic candy bar on the way home, and arrived safely.

The good news is that he doesn't need surgery. He has strained the ligaments around the second joint of his right hand ring finger.

The doctor said that it was good that he had buddy-taped it, with ring finger and middle finger splinted together. Except he had it splinted like that for two days; the doctor said they recommend three weeks.

Hmm.

Even that mild probing must have been traumatic. Phil slept for over three hours after he told me about his appointment.

We've never had a situation where Phil is entirely unable to work for over a month.

Financially, it doesn't make much of a difference (thankfully). But emotionally: he wants to work! To have building and lumber-jacking ready, and no ability to accomplish them (or anything else involving hand movements)—it's a frustrating place to be.

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