It’s 5:30 on a Saturday night and instead of enjoying a date-night with my wife, I’m sitting in the Emergency room.  I caved, no longer content to sit around the house complaining about my hand I’ve come to get a proper opinion.  I’d delayed taking any action beyond some (ineffective) Tylenol and my hand is displeased with that. The entire back of my hand is swollen and my range of motion is limited, not to mention painful.

Now 6:45 and they’ve had a cursory look and sent me off for X-rays. The three electronic X-rays took no more than 1 minute – more time to walk over there and back than to take them. Now it’s a game of hurry up and wait. And wait. Why do hospitals have the TV so loud?  This TV is so loud I can’t hear myself think.

7:30 8:00 now and in typical you-might-need-attention-but-you-aren’t-bleeding-from-the-neck fashion, I am still hanging out and waiting. A First-World Problem to be sure but a real damper for date-night just the same. I have run into an old co-worker who’s easing my boredom for a while, regaling me with tales of marital discord and the ensuing fight over the spoils of divorce. Nothing highlights the kindness of the human spirit better than a good-old-fashioned adulterous divorce. Nurse tells me I’m next. Here’s hoping.

I’m looking for a diagnosis along the lines of a dislocated wrist bone, some painkillers and a “go home and no washing dishes for a week”. I’m guessing this is unlikely. I don’t believe it’s broken however – a woman who came in behind me just left with a cast on.  I presume she was worse off than I, hence her quicker move into the ER, therefore it must not be broken.  I’m conflicted about this of course. If it’s not broken and I’m just being a whiner, send me home. Don’t make me spend a long-weekend Saturday night in a waiting room full of sick people so you can send me home half-way through the made-for-TV Tracey Gold special.

8:45 “Ah, you’re the fellow that fell of his bike”.  Yeah.  Well, no.  That’s inaccurate and misleading.  Did I have an accident while riding my bike?  Yes.  Did I fall off?  Uhm…no.  In fact how is that possible?  Well Doc, I was riding along the road when all of the sudden a car came out of nowhere honking it’s horn and spooking my bike.  It reared up on it’s back wheel and then bolted across the intersection and that’s when I fell off”.  No.  I did not fall off.  Quite the opposite really – my bike threw me violently to the pavement when I threatened to take it through the mud.

Apparently if the X-ray has a nifty arrow drawn on it, that's a bad thing.

9:00  It’s broken.  A small fracture they tell me.  Seems that sore spot I’ve been rubbing is sore because it’s broken.  A “wee break” he says.  Result?  Some percocet, a splint and a consultation with the hand surgeon.  Wait…what?  A surgeon?  Uhm…  Seems much ado for a “wee fracture”.  At least I don’t have to have a cast.

The staff have been great tonight too.  The nurses have been friendly and…hey wait…that looks like cast-making supplies on the tray in front of me.  That’s not cool.  Hopefully there’s some mistake.  I’ve managed to escape a cast despite a career in motorcycles and a propensity for pushing things – I don’t want to ruin my track record.  We’ll see.

Anyway, the staff – excellent.  First rate.  Despite being rather busy they’ve all been excellent.  I almost want to hang around and chat a while longer – date-night is flushed for this weekend and it’s late enough now the house is likely quiet.  No worries – I haven’t been splinted or cast or whatever it is they’re going to do.  I’m not going anywhere yet.

It seems a splint is “half a cast” and I’m getting one.  I didn’t understand at first as I watched the nurse wrap my arm up.  From palm to elbow it’s wrapped up and I’m thinking if this is half a cast, how big is a bloody cast?  Now I see – the splint is a fiberglass mold like a cast, but only on the bottom side of my arm.  Base layer, fiberglass support, top layer.  Glad it’s winter.  Almost all of the inconvenience of a cast (rigid and immobile) without the durability.  Splint stays on until after a visit with the surgeon.

So there we are, 5 hours, one lightly broken hand and an uber- fashionable splint later.  On the upside, I can’t get this splint wet so perhaps the “no dishes” thing might work out.  I’m guessing that’s not going to go over well at home.  I also see this putting the brakes (ha!) on my riding for the immediate future.  That and a lack of studded tires.  Or not…  In the meantime I’m going to drive home, get a percocet in me and get some sleep.  Right after I post this.