Got a new splint the other day and I got to see my lovely pins. I get to see them three times a day (to clean them).

Want to see them? If you’re squeamish, don’t look, ok?

Well, that’s that. Fun, huh?

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go ahead and click the picture…
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This was all really new to me. I had never has surgery on anything before. And while it was only my pinky finger, they had to knock me out because that’s what they do.

And that’s what scared me most. I’ve never done drugs or drank a sip of alcohol. One of the biggest reasons is because I always want to be in total control of what I do.

I got to La Casa de Surgery and checked in and waited a few minutes. Then a very pleasant Irishman led me to a room and got me prepped. His main job was to get an IV started. He tried and tried, but I apparently have no blood in my system.

After we traded a few jokes about such things, the anesthesiologist took a crack at it. They tried three different veins, but finally found one.

This would be the vein that would usher in a new era of antibiotics and then the anesthesia. Good job, vein.

But before going to sleep, They walked me to the amazingly cold operating room. I laid on my back, got my arm into position.

The anesthesiologist told me that he’d be administering the first bit of “sleepy medicine” to me now. “I can feel it,” says I.

“No,” he corrected me, “that’s just the last bit of antibiotic…. You should feel it… n-”

I’m assuming he said “now,” but I was gone.

A completely indiscernible amount of time later, I found myself back in the room where I was prepped.

One thing I wanted to do immediately upon waking up was say, “aaand we’re back” in my best dead-pan Bob Barker voice. I mean, why wouldn’t you?

So, the first thing I remember upon waking up? Saying “aaaand we’re back” to Sarah as she walked into the room. I rock.

I’m sure I was up before then, but I have zero recollection of anything prior to that.

From then until getting into the car, things are a bit fuzzy. I remember a few things, like the doctor telling me that it was much worse than originally suspected.

Click to make it bigger.

There was also a nurse (not the same one) who did some stuff, but I can’t remember what. Sarah was there and pretty well in charge.

After that, we went to the drug store to pick up the meds. At this point, I could feel some pressure, but no pain. Well, except for the fit of pretty painful hiccups that I somehow managed to get from drinking water. These would last on and off until I went to bed.

We got the meds and drove home. The pain was not yet there, but after about 15 minutes of trying to eat a burrito as big as my head with one hand, the pain came.

It was absolutely intense. I felt like my hand was being crushed. And the hiccups returned. I took the meds for pain.

It took about an hour to kick in and when they did, it was weird. I still felt most of the pain, I just didn’t care. Freaky. I really don’t get why people take pain meds recreationally.

Sleep came quickly and I pretty well slept through the night. I woke up around seven, which is late for me.

I do not like this. The pain is bad enough, but the meds are not fun. I hope it all goes away soon.

I got a call yesterday telling me that my employer might not approve paying for my surgery. They have to talk to the surgeon to make sure it’s 100% necessary.

It was also suggested that I talk to the surgeon myself. Not a bad idea, of course, but then the conversation took a turn for the messed up.

“You need to make sure that you need this surgery,” I was told. “It’s not an emergency. If it was, you would have had the surgery by now.”

And my favorite: “Will your finger wither up and fall off if you don’t get it?”

They were trying to plant that seed of doubt. “Your doctor doesn’t know everything. You don’t want to get this done if you don’t need to.”

I replied, saying, “if I didn’t need surgery, I wouldn’t know and you wouldn’t know – but a surgeon looking at my x-rays would, so I’m siding with him.”

They didn’t push too much, I’m sure there are laws and stuff, but I couldn’t believe that suddenly an insurance company has the right to decide which kind of medical I should get. How is that not “practicing medicine without a license?”

I also talked to my surgeon and he is going to do his best to convince them that not only do I need surgery, but that I need it NOW. Good luck.

The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow. If my employer does not clear it, I cannot afford it and thus cannot get it done. I don’t know what this actually means, of course, but that is simply how it is.

After a little trip to the hand specialist, I’m back with a new bandage/soft cast thing and an appointment to be knocked unconscious and have metal pins inserted into my finger on the 18th!

I wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to spend my summer – maybe riding around, exploring Washington, maybe camping, maybe doing my own dishes. Well, all that will have to take a backseat to doing nothing for the next 6 – 8 weeks while I recover.

I cannot even use my right hand to type. Because of the cast thing, it’s impossible. I’m very right-handed, so this is all going to be interesting.

The job that caused this has nothing for me to do just yet, but might in a week or two.

It’s pretty annoying and kind of painful, but hey, nothing I can do about it.

The nurse asked me if I was on pain meds for the pain. I told her that I was not, that the pain wasn’t really all that bad. She was impressed with my level of pain tolerance. Go me!

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In other news, the mix CD will still be out on the 15th. I still have to mess with some levels on it, but not a problem, really.

Yesterday morning, I ventured into work to meet with a manager and write up my report. By “write up” I mean just that. I had to write it out. Wow painful. I wonder what they would have done if I had lost an arm.

They sent me to a company approved doctor who very nicely x-rayed me and told me that “TTP of right 5th finger, decreased /rom, closed fracture of prix phakanx.” (Can anyone translate this?)

Here are the x-rays:

And some close ups:

You can click on any of the pictures to see them better.

She told me that it was broken in three places. At first, I only saw it in the first one, but Smartz pointed out that the fractures form a triangle in the second one.

The first close up shows a fracture along the entire width of the bone. The second shows two cracks forming a triangle.

The close ups are from the first and second x-rays.

I’ve been referred and transferred to a “hand surgeon.” Apparently, she thinks I may need surgery. Holy crap!

What’s odd though is that she’s sending me back to work. I’ll be on “light duty” (whatever that is).

According to the report given to my employer, I’m not allowed to lift more than five pounds with my right hand. Honestly, I can’t lift at all with my right hand. I’m still allowed to climb a ladder, though no more than once an hour (not sure how I’d accomplish this). I’m also allowed to grasp no more than once an hour. Thankfully, the doctor isn’t allowing me to crawl (this is the only thing in the report that I’m not allowed to do). Is this typical of company-approved doctors or am I being paranoid?

Oh and, I asked around, nobody at work checked on Scott. Nice.

Well, last night at work was pretty bad. I got there at two and did orientation stuff (yes, still) with Scott, the fellow who was hired when I was. That lasted till about 4:30. At that time, Scott and I, went to the back to start getting ready to unload the truck. We have to clean up the back room. No problem.

With that done and Mike (who seems to be sort of in charge) and Dexter (who seems to have been there a while and knows his stuff) there, we start to unload the truck at about 6.

I’m inside the truck (really, the trailer) tonight, going as fast as I can go, grabbing boxes and putting them on “the line” (a metal conveyor with rollers) and sliding them outside the truck for the other three guys to sort.

Very few things on these trucks are on pallets. Most stuff is fairly randomly tossed into the truck. It was my job to basically play reverse-Tetrus/Jenga and avoid as many avalanches as possible.

Being 5’4″ish, this is probably not the best job in the world for me. There were many boxes that I couldn’t reach and needed help with.

The law states that after 5 hours of working, we have to clock out and take a 30 minute break. This did not happen. There was no time and while I’ve had lots of orientation, nobody has really told me how/when to take breaks.

So neither Scott nor I had taken a break. Also, we are told to unload the truck as quickly as possible. We are timed and compared to other stores. This is really a bad idea. Of course, the truck needs to be unloaded in a timely manner, but is it worth the injuries that could be caused by making it a race?

Around 8:30, as I was trying to dislodge some boxes from the pile inside the truck, Scott was on a step-stool next to me doing the same thing. An avalanche occurred. As I leaped out of the way, to avoid the boxes falling on top of me, one found my right hand and smashed my fifth finger of my right hand against the metal line. Wow, amazingly painful.

This, however, didn’t put an end to my night. The finger swelled up and I basically lost the use of my right hand because whenever I’d move it, it was incredibly painful.

So I helped sort the boxes I could carry with one hand. I should have reported the injury, but to who? Nobody mentioned reporting it until about a half hour later. Dexter said that I should report it to “Tony.” However, with the rush to unload the truck, there was no time.

I was moved to the “floater” position where I help out everybody. Mike shouted to Scott, who was now inside the truck, “Come on! Let’s go! Do you need a written invitation?” This was said pretty much in jest, but the object was clear – it was still a race.

About 15 minutes later, Scott and Mike were in the truck when I hear “look out!” I look into the truck and see Scott on the floor. He is unconscious. I run in and Mike is checking to see if he’s breathing. Thankfully, he is. I ask if I should call 911. But a manager shows up on the scene. I ask him if I should call 911. He asks someone else for another managers number. I ask again if someone is going to call 911. Finally, yes, someone is.

Scott regains consciousness after about three minutes. He remembers his name and where he is, but keeps asking how long he was out.

The paramedics and an ambulance come to check him out. They ask if there is more light that can be gotten into the truck. There is not. The dock has no lights that can shine into the truck and it’s really dark in there (which is stupidly unsafe). Someone comes up with a flashlight or two and that’s it. After about 45 minutes, they take him to the hospital.

I mention to Mike that it’s not going to look so good that Scott was knocked unconscious while working without a break. He calls the manager on duty and then reports back that the “time card issue isn’t a problem.” I’m not really sure what that means, but it doesn’t sound so good.

However, the truck still must be unloaded. I’m in quite a bit of pain, but at least I’m conscious. Mike jokingly says, “make sure to report your hurt pinky finger.” It’s true, my injury wasn’t nearly as serious as Scott’s, but I’m still pretty well out of commission.

It’s about 10pm, and none of us have gotten breaks. I have been on the clock for eight straight hours, while both Mike and Dexter have been on for five. At the end of the truck, there are appliances. This is the last thing to come off. Mike again calls the manager on duty and tells him (I assume) that none of us have gotten breaks and the only thing left on the truck are the appliances. The thought was that the night crew could get them.

The manager tells us to keep working. We unload the appliances (not an easy thing to do with one hand) and around 11:15, we clock out to go home.

We are standing by the door waiting to be let out. Dexter asks if my hand is ok. I tell him that I don’t believe it is. A zone manager (not the manager on duty) is there and asks about it. He tells me that if it’s still hurting tomorrow, we’ll make a report.

I go into work at 2pm today. There is no way that I can work in the back. At this point, it doesn’t feel any better, I can’t move it and it’s swollen. But, at least I’m conscious.

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ps- Will update on Scott’s condition when I find out. Hopefully today.