“It’s probably never going to heal fully normal,” the hand surgeon reported, trying to console me with, “But if somebody didn’t know I bet they wouldn’t even notice.”
I flashed my hand in the air before her. Saying nothing, I pointed at the wonky finger and we both erupted in laughter.
May 1. That’s when I incurred this “common athletic injury.”
For Sunday afternoon fun, my husband and I, along with our three girls, went to the school playground to play a family tether ball tournament. I was playing (and beating) my husband when I had an incredible follow through, hit the pole, and my hand went numb.
Sensation and movement returned and I went on with life, until it started to arch. Despite my own splinting efforts, it continued to worsen. A trip to the orthopedist revealed a 5th finger PIP joint ligament rupture and tendon tear, landing me in occupational therapy for a formed night splint, a spring-loaded day splint that looks like gym equipment for a mouse, and exercises so that I’d be able to tighten my fist without M&Ms falling through. A woman has to have priorities :)
It was all going splendid and I could make a fist with the best of ‘em….until it started to curve again.
I returned to the surgeon with hopes of a permanent fix. To hear this well-respected woman say that surgery might make my particular case worse was a win for the pocket book but not to my image of perfection.
And I was disappointed.
Tetherball, people. TETHERBALL! How does a grown woman permanently mess up her hand playing tetherball?!
I was on my way back to occupational therapy with this assignment on my mind when God smacked me upside the head with truth.
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