FAMILY1 - Sports Injury

This is my story … and I’m sticking to it.  Last January 15^th, during a period of intense sporting activity, I fell and broke my wrist; hence the title of this story. 

Okay, it didn’t happen during intense activity.  In fact I was barely moving.  I was at my YMCA gym.  My Silver Sneaker class had just ended and I was putting my chair away, stacking it on other chairs, the whole chair tower rising from a small four-wheeled steel support frame used to move the chairs around. After placing my chair in the stack, I turned to leave and tripped and fell over another of those wheeled chair supports - this one empty of chairs.

Stack of gym chairs.

This is the beast I tripped over and fell on.

So my “sports injury” was breaking both bones in my left wrist and dislocating my left pinkie finger.  

It took some time to realize that I probably had more than a sprained wrist.  So Pat and I arrived at Tucson Medical Center’s Emergency Room a few hours later.  Of course, the first thing they did was take X-rays, confirming the double break.

Interestingly, as the images appeared on the video screen, Pat snapped pictures with her cell phone and immediately forwarded them by email to my son David, on travel from his home in Boston, who just happens to be a nationally-known orthopedic surgeon, specializing in upper extremities, including wrists.  While I was still in the Emergency Ward, he was able to look over the X-rays and offer support and advice.  

Before seeing the X-rays, I had refused pain meds, only taking aspirin; however, after learning that I broke my wrist, I requested some serious pain medication and was teased by the local doctor for my sudden change of heart.  They “straightened” my dislocated pinkie; placed my entire left arm in a loose splint and wrapped in it an over-shoulder sling, and directed me to the Tucson Orthopaedic Institute next door to the hospital. 

Just before release from the Emergency Ward.

Communication being what it is, it took a couple of days to get to the appropriate orthopedic doctor.  I quickly played the “my-son-is-an-orthopedic-hand-surgeon” card.  It turned out that the local surgeon was very familiar with David’s background and reputation and agreed readily to “consult” with him.  The issue was whether to surgically repair my wrist or manually align the bones, and cast the arm for healing.  My minimum healing objective was to resume normal activity, especially the ability to type (write) on a computer.

My son David provided a “decision tree” that took all the relevant factors into account and showed that I was on the borderline between proscribed approaches (in term of degree of bones misalignment and anticipated restoration of wrist capability).  With the local doc and David agreeing, I chose to avoid surgery and do the manual bone alignment; I believe the medical term is called “wrenching the hell out of my arm.”  Ouch!  Then followed a two-week period with a wrist-to-above-elbow splint (to make sure the bones didn’t slip back out of alignment) and a three-week period with a firm, waterproof wrist-to-below-elbow cast.  For some reason, I chose a chartreuse color cast.

Selfie to show David the extent of my splint.

The doctors and I decided that I didn’t need a formal therapy program.  I went out and bought some “play dough” and a “squeeze” ball to exercise the wrist and fingers - and that was it.

I had some interesting (to me) recovery issues.  Thank God I had Pat to help me through some trials and tribulations.

Sleep was not as difficult as I feared.  I found a position on my left side that allowed me to leave my left arm sticking up like a flag pole.

Showering was constrained, but in the splint phase, we put plastic newspaper bags over my left arm.  Later, the waterproof cast proved invaluable, with a little care to avoid soaking the cast.

Dressing myself was a challenge, especially buttons, and super especially that difficult single pants button.  I gradually became more skilled with one hand.  I had to plan carefully where I took my pants down and avoid situations (like public restrooms) where I had to secure that button after I finished my business.  I learned to select pants for the day based on ease of buttoning for planned activities.  Shirts, shoes, and socks were challenges at first, but I plowed through.

Food and drink turned out to be my biggest problem.  I couldn’t cut meat with a knife for quite a while.  We adjusted our diet to minimize the issue; Pat really helped out here.  The last skill/capability to return during recovery was, believe it or not, opening a bottle of wine, which I was used to doing once per day.  Something about wrist strength and twisting.  Pat had to take over for quite a while.

Three and half weeks from the day I broke my wrist, during the cast phase, Pat and I flew from Tucson to Washington DC to celebrate the promotion of my son John to Rear Admiral.  As you can imagine, that five-day trip presented its own set of challenges, but things worked out fine.

Reenacting the placing of Rear Admiral shoulder insignia.

Six weeks after my fall, the doctor removed the cast and pronounced me “fixed.”  They sent me home with an adjustable wrist brace to use as I needed as the wrist fully healed and gained strength.  I used the brace for a week or two, but soon found it unnecessary, and returned regularly to the scene of the accident, my gym.

So as I write this article, typing with restored dexterity, it has been six months since I broke my wrist and I am able to do everything I could before.  I still have a little wrist and finger stiffness, sometimes a little pain, and my pinkie remains “bent” a little.  But basically I am recovered, and have returned to the human “lineup” after my sports injury.