Yesterday when I fell off my bike, I rolled onto my back and just lay on the sidewalk a moment, taking stock of what hurt. I knew I dinged my knee up but I've done that before and recovered OK. What I was scared about was my hand. I knew immediately that I'd bent my fingers all the way back, but I didn't know if they broke. I was too scared to look so I rested my hand on my tummy and begged God to not let my fingers be broken. Then I gathered enough courage to move my fingers (although not enough courage to actually look at them). And they wiggled, so I knew they weren't broken - yeah!!!
As I lay there trying to figure how to get up, one of the Resort residents bicycled up. He looked at me laying unmoving on the sidewalk, with my bike tangled around my feet, and asked "Are you doing this on purpose?" ?!?!? When I said no, he kindly got off his bike, set my bike up and out of the way, put my sandal back on my foot (I didn't know it was off), and gave me a helping hand up.
I got back on my bike and finished my errand to the office, but I wasn't happy about being on the bike anymore. At home I kept ice on my knee and hand for a couple of hours, then went to bed with Salonpas patches all over and a brace on my hand.
The ice did trick for my knee again - today it aches but it is mostly just scrapped up. But my middle and ring fingers on my right hand are sore, swollen and turning purple.
I can't use those fingers at all yet. Being right-handed, this is creates some difficulty. I know this isn't a big deal but it is a pain, in every sense of the word.
No comments:
Post a Comment