As promised, here is part two of the great medical journey, all caused by a wicked sharp knife that I never should have been using. Where was I? Oh yes, what happened after August first. After the doctor gave me four stitches, orthopedic arrived and put me in a cast that could have gone through a war zone. People, that, thing, was, HARD! There is no way that I needed that stupid thing when I didn’t even have a broken bone. Seriously, just wait till you see this thing, it’s a doozy. Eventually the doctor came by to ‘check’ said cast, and they sent me home. When I returned home from the hospital no later than one a.m. in the morning, I collapsed into bed and forgot to document a high quality picture of my cast. So sorry about that. I do have a low quality one, but my computer does not approve of it. Corrupted file and all that.

Any-who, once I recovered from the daze of high-powered antibiotics, we rolled out of bed and to get to an early morning appointment with the hand specialist. When we got there we were slapped in the face with the usual hundreds of forms and personal questions. On a side note, if somebody asks me one more time how I hurt my finger, I am going to scream. Thank you for listening. Where was I? Oh yes, so I was asked the usual questions, do you smoke? No. Do I drink? No. Am I allergic to any medications. Not that I know of. Am I around secondhand smoke? Not until I went to the emergency room…so yeah. After this barrage of questions and others like it some nerdy redhead walks in, twists my thumb out of socket, and says that I need surgery because I have severed my flexor tendon and lacerated my digital nerve. Great. Just great. Blast that ****** knife. I vow to NEVER use another miracle blade. So yeah, I go in for surgery on Friday. Prayers, boxes of Reese’s candies, and bags of Gardetto’s snack mix are appreciated.  Look on the bright side, I got the blasted cast off, only to get another one on next week! Here’s what they have on me right now:

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The moral of this story, do not try to pull a knife out of a cabbage. Also, never use anything but a food processor from now on. Or you will end up on a surgery table, unconscious, with doctors rippin’ ya open.

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