Now that three months have passed, and I've been given the all clear from my surgeon and the PTs, it's finally time to put this story in the blog.
There is a park district ice rink across the street from my work. When Alex and I walk back and forth to his school we often pass it, and he would ask when we could go ice skating. I love to skate and finally found a time to take him. It was going to be a special Alex and Mom outing.
When we arrived, the rink was packed. It was a cold, but sunny, day. We rented our skates and, much to my dismay, they only rented hockey skates, which I had never skated on before. We forged ahead. I was feeling uncomfortable in the skates but was primarily focused on Alex since this was his first time skating.
We hit the ice, stood to the side so he could get used to the feeling, and then ventured forward. Within fewer than 20 feet I got wobbly and couldn't regain my balance. We went down. Alex was fine, but I knew I had fallen pretty hard on my hand.
We went to the wall to regroup and take a couple of pictures since I wasn't sure how much longer we'd be out there. I knew I had hurt my wrist, but I've never had a broken bone before and didn't know what to expect. The internal dialogue inside my head kept constant track of how it felt, what it looked like, and the percentage chance that I would need to go to the ER versus taking Alex home. After a few more minutes of skating it was pretty clear that we should go to the hospital. I explained to Alex that we might need to leave but got really lucky in that the attendants blew their whistles to clear the ice for the zamboni. So, I wasn't making us leave, everyone had to get off the ice.
We made our way back to the door, having only gotten about one quarter of the way around the rink, and found a good spot on the outside wall where Alex could watch the zamboni. After it finished, Alex played for a few minutes on a big hill of snow (something that had been promised to him when he spotted it when we arrived), and then we loaded up in the car and headed to the hospital.
Alex was very curious about everything going on at the ER and was excited about the prospect of watching me get x-rays taken. Despite being "fast tracked" in triage, it took a long time to be seen, and after about an hour I let Dave know where we were and asked him to come get Alex. (I had naively been hoping that I could get home before bedtime. In fact, I spent six hours in the ER.)
I finally got x-rayed, which confirmed that the wrist was broken. The rest of the night was spent getting casted, having a CAT scan taken, and waiting to be released and finally getting some pain meds. After some initial confusion, I saw a surgeon later in the week and they had me scheduled for surgery that Friday. Of course, once they opened things up and saw the break, it was even worse than they thought. Instead of some pins or wires, I ended up with two metal plates, five screws, and a bone graft. Recovery has felt slow, but the PTs and the doctors are pleased. The estimate is that it will be better in about a year.
Here are some pictures of the adventure.
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| One week post surgery |
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| All the tape is off |
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| In the compression sleeves (that's Alex's arm on the top) |
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| Healing nicely |
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| Ending on a happy note (not the best picture, but it shows him out there on the skates) |