03-26-2004, 05:56 AM
I've broken exactly two bones in 29 years. The first was a hand bone when I was young (14) and stupid. I punched a wall and broke the bone in my hand that connected to the pinky finger. It didn't hurt that much, and it healed rather quickly after sporting a cast for a month or so.
The other bone I broke was worse. MUCH WORSE! It hurt like hell.
A few years ago my wife and I returned home after visiting my parents for the weekend. It was late sunday night. My wife settled into the couch in our living room for some rest. I went to the kitchen to grab a drink. On my way back from the kitchen to our living room, I failed to notice a piece of furniture.
You see, we had been rearranging furniture in our home prior to our visit with my parents. We left a shelving unit in the middle of our dining room, which we intended to dispose of at a later time.
On my way back from the kitchen to the living room (with beer in hand), I walked through the dining room. That was a big mistake. I stubbed my left baby toe on the shelving unit. I had forgotten that we left it there.
Now, I've stubbed various toes a thousand times. I'm sure you (the reader) have too. The proper procedure after stubbing a toe is to swear loudly (which I did) and grab the foot that holsters the stubbed toe.
So, I reached out with my left hand and grabbed my left foot, swearing all the while. As soon as I touched my left foot I knew something was wrong. Very wrong. My left baby toe wasn't pointing in the direction it should have. It felt wrong.
Instead, it was pointing 90° to the left.
Take your shoes and socks off and look at your left foot. Look at your left baby toe. Now, imagine it poking off to the side at a 90° angle. That's what happened to me.
While I was clutching my disfigured foot in my hand and was screaming obscenities, my wife figured something was wrong. She asked, "What's wrong?"
I said, "I just broke my toe! ^%#&^%#*&^%#&$#&!"
She said, "Are you sure?
I showed her my horrific-looking left foot. Quite frankly, it was ugly. She agreed that I required a trip to the emergency ward. My toe certainly wasn't going to heal itself, and I wouldn't have been able to wear shoes.
When we got to the emergency ward, the nurse doing triage asked what was wrong. I pointed to my poor disfigured toe. She looked at it and said (no word of a lie) "OH NO! YOUR POOR BABY TOE!!".
I was given a wheelchair and an icepack while waiting for treatment (the icepack was a nifty "biohazard" bag filled with icecubes).
I'm going to skip some parts and jump straight to the payoff.
The doctor that treated me did his best to put my poor baby left toe into place. He grabbed my toe with a firm (vice-like) grip and stared at the x-rays while he pulled and twisted it into place. This took about 5 minutes, and I can honestly say that these were the most painful 5 minutes of my life. I actually felt my bones GRINDING against each other.
My toe is fully healed right now. I am careful not to stub my toes now.
The other bone I broke was worse. MUCH WORSE! It hurt like hell.
A few years ago my wife and I returned home after visiting my parents for the weekend. It was late sunday night. My wife settled into the couch in our living room for some rest. I went to the kitchen to grab a drink. On my way back from the kitchen to our living room, I failed to notice a piece of furniture.
You see, we had been rearranging furniture in our home prior to our visit with my parents. We left a shelving unit in the middle of our dining room, which we intended to dispose of at a later time.
On my way back from the kitchen to the living room (with beer in hand), I walked through the dining room. That was a big mistake. I stubbed my left baby toe on the shelving unit. I had forgotten that we left it there.
Now, I've stubbed various toes a thousand times. I'm sure you (the reader) have too. The proper procedure after stubbing a toe is to swear loudly (which I did) and grab the foot that holsters the stubbed toe.
So, I reached out with my left hand and grabbed my left foot, swearing all the while. As soon as I touched my left foot I knew something was wrong. Very wrong. My left baby toe wasn't pointing in the direction it should have. It felt wrong.
Instead, it was pointing 90° to the left.
Take your shoes and socks off and look at your left foot. Look at your left baby toe. Now, imagine it poking off to the side at a 90° angle. That's what happened to me.
While I was clutching my disfigured foot in my hand and was screaming obscenities, my wife figured something was wrong. She asked, "What's wrong?"
I said, "I just broke my toe! ^%#&^%#*&^%#&$#&!"
She said, "Are you sure?
I showed her my horrific-looking left foot. Quite frankly, it was ugly. She agreed that I required a trip to the emergency ward. My toe certainly wasn't going to heal itself, and I wouldn't have been able to wear shoes.
When we got to the emergency ward, the nurse doing triage asked what was wrong. I pointed to my poor disfigured toe. She looked at it and said (no word of a lie) "OH NO! YOUR POOR BABY TOE!!".
I was given a wheelchair and an icepack while waiting for treatment (the icepack was a nifty "biohazard" bag filled with icecubes).
I'm going to skip some parts and jump straight to the payoff.
The doctor that treated me did his best to put my poor baby left toe into place. He grabbed my toe with a firm (vice-like) grip and stared at the x-rays while he pulled and twisted it into place. This took about 5 minutes, and I can honestly say that these were the most painful 5 minutes of my life. I actually felt my bones GRINDING against each other.
My toe is fully healed right now. I am careful not to stub my toes now.