I'm baaaack... w/more hand problems

All right, all right, I'm back from the dead... or maybe it's the living since I've been going non-stop since Miguel got here last Thursday night... (sorry, I had better things to do than blog)...

I planned on giving you a recap of everything we did over the last five days, but my hand is still messed up from my stab wound, and I can't type very fast, and I'm getting tired and just can't do it this evening. So tomorrow I will give the grand recounting of the long weekend (which included a very exciting UA football game... yes, even I concede that it was a good game, and I hate sports... Homecoming festivities on campus, dinner and drinks out with several friends on multiple nights, mucho Mexican food, hours and hours of staring at airplanes at the Pima Air & Space Museum -- Miguel's fascination -- and a canceled Kitt's Peak stargazing venture due to a near flat tire).

But first the more exciting news... my jacked-up hand. It didn't hurt all last week or throughout the weekend, but I noticed that my pinky finger (above the wound) was curling over, sort of bending in half over the bandage, and when I would take the bandage off, it was a big effort to straighten my finger out, and it generally felt like the stitches were pulling my palm into a cup sort of shape. It always felt good to immediately rewrap my hand after a shower to give it some stability.

Therefore, I was very excited to get the stitches (which I assumed were the culprit) taken out this morning after I dropped Miguel off at the airport to fly back to DC.

However, this is how I walked out of the clinic today...

In a popsicle-like mitten far worse than I had before... (I mean, I already have abnormally long fingers, and this just makes me look like some kind of freak alien)

Here's what happened:

A nurse took me back to a little room and the doctor who put in my stitches showed up (he's very friendly with a pleasant bedside manner) to check out the wound. He snipped out the stitches and then sort of stared at my hand uncomfortably for several minutes. I started feeling sweaty and slightly panicky and just a touch nauseous when looking at my hand as well, which I noticed was not opening up normally like my other hand. In fact, the pinky finger looked semi-dislocated. It was fairly disturbing.

The doctor asked me to open my palm all the way, and I discovered that my pinky would not extend unless pulled on, and it sort of clicked into position. The doctor started calling it a "trigger" finger (yuck) and kept trying to manipulate it, even though it was clear that something was pretty wrong with it. At that point, he informed me that I would be referred to a hand surgeon. Scuse please? Did you say surgeon? As in... operating room, intubation tubes, anasthesiologists, recovery room, more stitches, blood, bandages, pain, physical therapy, sheer and total hell surgery? What? Because of a knife cut from a hunk of bread? No, no, no!! That damn toast!!!!

The room began mildly swimming, and the nurse said I looked a bit pale as she bounded off to fetch me a bottle of Gatorade. I realized I was looking like a real wimp. But... (sweaty, shaking voice... gulp...)... surgery?

Well, at this point, it's actually not clear if I will need surgery, as the urgent care doctor urgently informed me that he didn't know too much about the intricacies of the hand. So I see a Dr. Smith at the Southwest Hand Surgery Clinic on Friday who will diagnose me. My urgent care doctor seems to think it's just scar tissue gone awry, which should be able to be worked out with physical therapy, but there are two other options as well... 1) he stitched my flesh to the tendon accidentally, which is why the cut is "pulling" or b) the tendon was partially cut by the original knife wound. These two options will require a re-opening of my wound and an internal repair. That's code for surgery. Please think happy thoughts that it is not either of these options...

The only funny part of the day is the splint and bandage they put on my hand... as seen above... (which is meant to keep my finger straightened). Sadly, it's about 1,000 times bigger than the normal sized gauzy wrap I walked in with when I thought I was healed...

Check out the muppet hand...


This is the end of the "cushioned splint" that my hand is sandwiched between:

It's like Cookie Monster meets Barney. I know, it's hot.

If you're wondering how I am typing at all right now, I will tell you that I cut that f**ing bandage off my hand ASAP. It was hot, suffocating, and I didn't see why I couldn't use my other three fingers. I needed at least SOME mobility. I mean, a thumb only takes you so far on a computer keyboard.

So I ate a grape popsicle, wrapped the stick in gauze, put it on my pinky, wrapped it all to my lower hand, and voila, I am semi operable on a keyboard again with three fingers and a thumb!

I'll let you know what happens when I find out about my hand, but until then, I'll be back tomorrow with weekend tidbits...