Tag broken bones

Playing my favorite game: ER or urgent care?

Angel Ackerman 1 Comment

Yesterday, in a strange turn of events, I had a fall. More of a trip.

But let’s back up. Remember that tire incident from my last post? The day after that post (which was not the same day as the incident) I came down with an ailment that still has me congested and softly coughing.

I have to wonder if I had COVID.

It’s only been the last few days that I’ve felt myself. And that might contribute to the perfect storm that put me in this position.

I forgot to take my baclofen yesterday and all I had before I went to pick up Nan for our errands was coffee and a couple Munchkins. (With Eva on vacation, those of us left behind had to take the dog to the Dunkin Drive Thru window.) I even forgot to take my blood pressure.

When I got home, it was probably 11:40. I had coffee from Panera and groceries in the car, as well as some plastic bins from the dollar store to organize the deep freezer.

I brought the coffee in first and got the dog out of the crate. The backyard had a lot of dog poo, and I wasn’t sure she peed.

So I put on her collar and her prong, leashed her up and checked for dogs and people. We went across the yard.., and the mailman popped off a porch four houses down.

I had not put on my hands-free, waist, back-up leash. So I dropped to my knees to better control the dog lunging at the mail carrier. I got her settled (the dog, not the mail lady) and put her back in the house.

I went to the store to get the items from the dollar store. The mail lady approached me to give me the mail. I accepted it, placing it in the large-ish plastic basin containing all the items from the dollar store.

I turned, got my foot caught on the dog’s outdoor place stay, and fell. I fell with a bit of a twist, landing both on my stuff and on my right thumb.

Assymmetry percentage

I landed on the sidewalk and along the steps.

I smashed the basin. It never even made it into the house.

The fall probably happened around 12:20. My watch didn’t register it as a hard fall, probably because the basin broke my fall and prevented more serious injury.

The thumb hurt but it moved well, so I took my Baclofen, had some lunch and sat down for a while. My phone suggested my gait had been awful that day.

Thumb directly after accident

At 5 p.m., I did a shift as the front counter bagger at Chick-Fil-A. 4 hours.

Had dinner. Came home. Went to bed.

Woke suddenly in the middle of the night. My thumb hurt and it was bending less than it was earlier. I went back to sleep, planning to go to urgent care in the morning. The recycling truck came around at a bit after 4 a.m., woke me, and I couldn’t get back to sleep. I decided that even though I got less than five hours sleep I would just get up.

When I looked at my phone, I noticed a series of notifications. Apparently, my heart rate had been high while I was sleeping. Since I had that afib incident after my falls in 2023, I did an ecg on my phone. It was fine.

I headed for the bathroom. And as soon as I opened my bedroom door, I had to fight not to urinate on myself. With no warning. As I got closer to the bathroom, it was harder not to lose control– and in the end I didn’t really make it.

Thumb in the ER

Now my thumb would not bend at all.

I began to wonder: Do I have too many complexities for Urgent Care? With my disability and my heart history…

At 5:30 a.m., I decided to bite the bullet and walk to the ER.

A ten-lead echocardiogram was normal. Thumb shows a possible chip fracture.

I came home and called my neurologist, who is also a physiatrist, leaving a message in case she wanted to see me since I had a weird combination of symptoms. The person who assisted me asked me all sorts of questions.

While on hold with their office, I looked up the number for the Institute for Hand and Upper Extremity Rehabilitaton. I have worked with their therapists for two of my previous finger injuries on my right hand. They are now closed.

The person on the line with me from the neurologist’s office suggested I call the orthopedic specialist, especially since it’s the same doctor whom I consulted with when I broke my ankle ten years ago. The ER advised I call them if it got worse or did not improve.

But I would like to confirm whether or not it is broken and get a better treatment plan than this huge, cheap splint the ER gave me.

The person on the phone at the ortho’s office assured me that it was smart to be seen, right away, versus waiting for time to pass. She even had a cancellation for tomorrow morning.

So I guess we’ll have more updates tomorrow.

Movement in the face of stillness

Angel Ackerman 1 Comment

My mother taught me never to stand still. She wanted to teach me that I should always make my bed and I should never leave the house without doing all the dishes, but I failed in those lessons.

I spent much of my twenties doing exactly what I thought I was supposed to do: I embarked on a career, I bought a new car, I rented an apartment, I got married, I paid off my student loans.

In my thirties, my husband and I focused most of our energy on our daughter. My career as a journalist became more precarious. I went to work part-time as I earned a second bachelor’s in International Affairs.

By my late thirties, I started traveling with a friend. I realized maybe I didn’t want a traditional professional occupation, but I couldn’t label what I did want.

Now I’ve crossed 40. I am working on a master’s degree in world history at West Chester University. I’ve had a few small acceptances with some of my creative writing. I’m contemplating pursuing more paid freelance writing work.

And I also might take a semester off from my master’s work. My daughter is nearing 13 and I never realized how much she’d need me now.

These are the thoughts I was thinking this morning as I held my office hours as a graduate assistant in West Chester’s history department. I stumbled upon one new publication that may be a good fit for me as a journalist wanting to return to the trade and some of my more alternative leanings.

And while I sit quietly, alone, in this office, I ask what will I do with myself this winter with no schoolwork and only my tedious retail job? And I realize this time will be introspective and hopefully give me more stillness so that my true desires come into focus.

While I ponder these thoughts, which are not easy thoughts, I receive an email.

“Thank you for your revisions.” “We’ll contact you with a publication date.”

An essay I submitted to an online literary magazine a few weeks ago seems as if it has accepted my piece. The piece is about weather, Djibouti and broken bones. It’s a quirky publication too so this may be a sign…

I must keep writing.

Spiral shaft fracture of the fifth metacarpal

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

My upcoming trip to Djibouti may create an image of me as a brave, intrepid adventurer. In reality, I’m a former journalist who has used the changing media landscape to explore what I’d really like to do with my life. I have a really practical part-time job working for a great corporation with some of the most interesting and genuine people I have ever met. This has allowed me to return to school and earn a second bachelor’s degree, do a virtual internship with USAID, spend more time with my daughter and serve on boards in the community. And travel.

So, Monday should have been the day that I prepared my visa application materials for transit to D.C. but a funny thing happened at work. I broke my right hand and yes, I’m right hand dominant. Less than four weeks out from my exotic dream voyage and I broke my hand. Specifically, I sustained a [rather fortunate under the circumstances] spiral shaft fracture of my fifth metacarpal.

Sparing the exciting details of my first 24 hours with a broken bone, most of which were spent waiting for an ortho appointment, let’s say that my package got out today and I have a nice red cast. I have mentioned my upcoming out-of-country travel to my medical team. On April 15, they will remove my cast and place me in a removable splint of some kind based on the rate of healing. My traveling companion has expressed his relief.

When my hand heals more, I shall devote a blog entry to “life imitates art” and how my fiction tends to draw weird coincidences into my life. I think my imaginary friends and I share karma. When Basilie got pregnant, I got pregnant a few months later. She had a stroke a few months ago, and she lost the use of her right hand. From here on out, only goodness for Basilie. I’d share some of the stuff I’ve already written about Basilie, but I am very clumsy with my left hand only on the keyboard. It has taken forever to type this.

Remember all that time I dedicated to finding a journal for my trip? I used Facebook to poll my friends about the final three candidates and now… here’s hoping I can write in it when I travel.

Let me leave you will this… My daughter has been obsessed with broken bones since she saw the episode of the Waltons where Elizabeth fell off the wood pile and broke her legs. Needless to say, this process has fascinated her and the medical staff has allowed her to come with me for most of my treatment. I’ll share a photo she took while I got my cast.

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