Disclaimer: I may not be as witty, clever, and overly wordy as I usually am, since I am currently typing with only 9 fingers. No, I did not lose one. Thankfully. But my left thumb has been temporarily imprisoned in a wrist brace. It seems there is a possibility I might have yet another fracture.
A few weeks ago, I mentioned a mountain biking accident during which I fell on my left elbow...hard...twice. It turned out that I had, in fact, fractured it, but because I waited too long to see a doctor, all I could do was physical therapy. Today, I went out by myself, for the first time ever and fell...again, hard...on the same side. As of a few weeks ago, I started riding "clipped in", which basically means that my shoes are clipped into my pedals. I have to twist my ankle out slightly in order to disattach myself from my bike. I have fallen four times since I have been riding clipped in, and all four times I was unable to get my left foot out in time. This means that when my bike stops and I start to fall, I do so with full force, bike and all, down on rocky, rooty terrain. Today, as I started to fall, my instinct was to put my hand out in an attempt to protect my now nearly healed elbow. It worked. Sort of. My elbow? Good to go. My wrist? Not so good.
The pain this time was immediate and searing. I could barely ride my bike out of the trail. I went straight to my doctor, who did x-rays and sent me for an MRI "Stat." Although the x-rays did not show any fractures, he said there is a chance I might have one in the scaphoid bone, which, apparently, as would be the case with my luck, is one of the most worrisome if it does fracture. Yay. Lucky me. If it is fractured, I will have to be in a cast for "at least 6 weeks, possibly even up to the shoulder." Oh, so practical for a mom of 2 small children. Oh, so practical for a person as active as I am. Oh, so practical for a person who can barely stand a band-aid for longer than a minute.
There is a possibility, the doctor says, that it may be just a bad sprain. I will know on Thursday. That is in 2 whole days. In case you have not figured me out yet, I am not so good at waiting. I am really bad at not worrying. And I am even worse at not "horribilizing" to the worst possible case scenario. In fact, today while showering, I tried to plan out how in the world I will manage to shower for "at least 6 weeks" with a cast.
Why can't I assume that it is, in fact, just a sprain? Why can't I just not worry about the diagnosis until I actually get it? Why can't I stop replaying my ride over and over again and how I could have/should have avoided the fall? Because there is that pesky theme again... Surrendering. Letting go. Not worrying about everything. Accepting that I can not control things. Trying to be positive.
Damn it. How many lessons will the Universe throw at me?
And once I get my results...another "demon" to face: will I return to mountain biking? For those not familiar with it, it's a tough sport. I have been told, in fact, that "it's a guy's sport." It is rigorous, exhausting, dangerous, and exhilarating. (And for those of you who are thinking "There are no mountains in South Florida!"...that may be true, but the mountain biking here is so technical that they say that once you learn down here, you can ride anywhere.) I am a fairly clumsy individual. I became athletic late in life. I trip over my own two feet on a pretty regular basis. Maybe I have no business clipped into a mountain bike. Because another one of my "issues" I deal with on a regular basis? My biggest secret? I am not very brave. I pretend to be. I try to be. I've done some pretty courageous things in my lifetime. But the truth is, deep down, I'm a big chicken.
So what to do now? Wait. Try to surrender. Try to learn something from this life experience too. But...hey...the good news? Apparently, even with only 9 fingers, I can still be just as wordy as I usually am! Lucky you.