Remember when I fell?

I can hear it in surround sound, as if Homer himself is in my head.

My thumb still sore from one-way-too-many crashes while nordic skiing (that sounds so wimpy, but hey, it was black!), sore even after being prescribed to take fifteen Advil a day (don't worry, my stomach is fine), I decided to go see an orthopedic doctor specializing in hands. My gut feeling seemingly returning on the sly from a few months hiatus, I knew that it wasn't just another jam.

And so waiting in the room named so aptly for its providing of mere time and decently comfortable chairs, then ushered into a patient room, I squeezed technology that compared grips and pressures, what I could only think of as making cool measurement tools for any rock climber. All readings being equal from right to left, I was then informed that I needed x-rays. 'Just move your thumb here' and two buzzes later I was back in my room. Within moments Holtkamp the White came gliding in, magical fingers contorting my thumb. Questions fired, then over to the x-rays, then more questions, and a prognosis was ascertained. I had hurt my thumb! (Just kidding.)

I didn't write the technical terms and all that down (it is my right hand after all), but due to the fact that I had possibly broken that same thumb before (I can't remember if it was right or left), and it being hard to tell if the damage was an 'artifact' (seriously, the White used that very word), than I either damaged the joint or the dorsal tendon. Since I have continued to use my thumb it has continued to provide me with pain, as it apparently is trying to heal. Huh.

Holtkamp, eyes shining, knowing, asked what I did. 'Teacher.' 'Yes, yes.' 'We could put you in a cast for four weeks, or we could go with the splint.' We both knew the answer to that one.

And so I left the doctor's office yesterday with a month long permanent thumbs-up supported by a glove that either makes me look like an intense bicycle rider or a person that is trying way too hard to start a new fashion trend. (Hey, I tried it with the headlamp. Might as well.)

It was only moments later that I actually realized what a pain in the butt this prognosis was. Just throwing the Taurus into reverse called for thumb action. Taking a minute to sit and think about all of the stuff that I would not be able to do for a month, play the guitar, push-ups that I've been meaning to do, the holding of hands that I so dearly love (yeah, I know, it's out anyway), I immediately wished for a speedy recovery as I tore open my sun roof and blasted 'Fall Down'.

What could I do.

D'oh!