Stone of stumbling and rock of offense (wordweaverlynn) wrote,
Stone of stumbling and rock of offense
wordweaverlynn

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Joyful Reunions and Ridiculous Injuries

I'm rereading Tom Disch's wonderful The Businessman for the first time since his suicide a few years ago. It's as brilliant as I remember, and I very much hope his vision of the afterlife is close to the truth. I'd like him to be able to reach paradise, even if he does have to flatter Adah Menken to do so. I am very grateful this is the Disch I brought it along on the trip. Instead of, say, The M.D., another in his horror trilogy. Reading that book in the ER would not be especially reassuring to me or the medical staff.

The first thing to say is that I'm fine, for certain values of fine. And the day was actually quite good, taken overall.

This morning I banged my right pinky against something. After a few minutes I noticed it was swelling and the furthermost joint was sagging; I couldn't raise it. Hmmm. Had I broken it? dislocated it? No, turns out I ripped the tendon loose, but discovering that took about 4 hours of waiting. Alan very kindly made me breakfast -- good thing he suggested it, or I'd have been chewing up the chairs in the waiting room. He drove me to the hospital and then I insisted he go off to play poker. I deal with medical things much better on my own.

Unfortunately, today was also supposed to be the day when I got to see my best friend from high school for the first time in 31 years. I'm visiting New London, CT, 3000 miles from home, and she was driving down from Cape Cod to her home in NJ. She (and her daughter) very kindly stopped at the ER and spent time talking with me -- and waited for me while I disappeared into triage, radiology, and so on. Then we had supper together. It actually worked out well.

Still, my splint is a pain. It's removable for things like eating, but it does tend to get in the way. I'll need to consult my doctor when I get home; the tendon may heal, or I may need microsurgery to reattach it. Luckily I am not a touch typist, and my pinky isn't one of the fingers I use to hunt and peck.

As traveling disasters go, this one is much less limiting than the infamous norovirus incident and less traumatic than the Arkansas Christmas ice storm. Plus I''ve got a backpack as my carryon luggage, which really does make things simpler.
Tags: er follies, mallet finger, trip east
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