My Wrist

As you may know, I broke my wrist.

Two weeks ago, Carla, Anna and I decided we needed a girls weekend. Rather than do the usual shopping day, we decided skiing was the healthier option. Healthier for our bank accounts, and also healthier for our bodies.

As we neared the massive hills of western North Dakota, Carla began having reservations. This would only be her third time on skis, and memories of a few painful falls were messing with her confidence. So, Anna and I, supportive friends that we are decided we'd snowboard. You know, level the playing field a bit.

We put on our gear and headed to the top of the bunny hill.

For the sake of honesty, I will tell you that the hardest, most black diamond hill in North Dakota looks like a short bunny hill, by Utah standards.

Now, I was never a snowboarder. I grew up on ski's and opportunities to ride any hill are few and far between in the Dakota's. That being said, I'd been on board a time or two and felt just fine on the bunny hill. After a few runs, I told Anna and Carla we needed to ride a real hill. They talked me into three more runs on the bunny hill.

Carla got out her camera to video mine and Anna's skills. After a false start and a few laughs, I took off, made it to the bottom, and fell. It was not a hard fall. Carla and Anna can be heard cheering on camera. But I instantly knew my wrist was in bad shape.

The girls skied down to me, and I told them I'd hurt my wrist. They helped me pull my glove off, and then I watched the blood drain from Carla's face. I was deformed. (A description that was later confirmed by the E.R. Doc.)

Anyway, Anna and I went to the ski patrol hut for ice, while Carla went to get my car. The super nice ski patrol staff informed me that I'd better not eat or drink anything, because I was headed for surgery. I also secured Ryan and I jobs next year as weekend ski patrol (on ski's, not snowboards.)

A few hours later, after a long wait in ER and a painful set of x-rays, the Dr. comes in and says he has good news.

"Not broken." He says in a cheerful voice. But as he lifted my ice pack, his smile drooped and he informed me, "I can't be looking at the right films. You are obviously deformed." A statement which brought on an inappropriate amount of giggling from me and my friends.

And so he left the room to double check my films.

Another hour passes. The Dr. comes back and says, "It's hard to believe, but your wrist is not broken." He then grabs my fingers and bends my wrist backwards, increasing my pain level from "Oh, about 8." To "Get me a bucket Dr. A@@ hole, because I think I'm going to puke!"

"This can't be right." he says.

No kidding, thinks me.

He leaves the room and another hour or so passes. This time he comes back with the orthopedic surgeon. You see, there was another girl named Nicole in the ER with a hurt wrist. Hers was not broken. He'd been looking at her films.

Me? I was about to be prepped for surgery.

So, Ryan packed up the kids and headed to Bismarck. They arrived while I was in surgery, and then we all went back to the Radisson for a nice, drug induced, sleep.

Had my two week appointment yesterday. Saw the x-rays from before the surgery, and after with the plate and 6 screws embedded in my bone. Everything is healing the way it should. In 6 more weeks I can start physical therapy, and maybe 2 weeks after that I will be given the OK to lift something heavier than 1 pound.

Carla and Anna have some cool pics of us before the fall, and of my deformity. Maybe when they read this they will get off their lazy butts and send them to me. :)

I have a few pictures of the way it looks now. Yesterday they put me in a removable splint, so I can take it off and look at the prety colors of old bruising.

Looks pretty straight, doesn't it? I plan to be 100% in time for wakeboarding season.