I like to stay active, if possible. It's not like I don't have lazy days on the weekend, it's just that I prefer to play basketball during the week and I like working out with my friends. I enjoy hiking, I've been known to go to a salsa class or two, and I've had my share of running adventures. All in all, it keeps me relatively healthy, so I can't really complain. Most of all, I like doing it. Plus, it has some added benefits, like being able to compete with my siblings when they decide to start FitBit challenges during the week.
There are some downsides to the activity, though. I end up really freaking sore some times, and then mundane objects like stairs and chairs become obstacle courses that I have to navigate. Worst of all, though, are the injuries. I've been lucky so far, because I've yet to have any major injuries. I've rolled my ankle or stubbed a finger plenty of times, but in the grand scheme of things, those are all little things. The remedy for them is mostly just waiting it out. Your body more or less just heals itself, and you go on doing the exact same things you were doing before. The worst injury I'd had was dislocating my finger as a kid. As scary as it looked, the fix was really just popping it back into place.
My streak of good luck was bound to run out eventually. I was playing basketball a few weeks ago, and I took a tumble. There's enough movement and contact in a typical game that it's not entirely uncommon for someone to hit the ground. We don't usually aim for that kind of contact, but it's almost inevitable for the right type of contact to hit the right person at the right moment. It was just my turn, I suppose. So, I fell and I instinctively tried to brace my fall by reaching my hands out behind me. Honestly, I was most concerned about the fall at that point, but everything seemed to be in order. I got up, and we played on. In fact, I finished out that game and played another before I headed back to the office.
A day later, I noticed that my left wrist felt kind of sore. It must have been from the fall, I thought to myself. The muscles were still warm when we were playing, so I didn't really feel anything then. But I still had most of my range of motion, and there was no swelling. Oh well, it must be a sprain, I thought to myself. I figured I'd wait for it to heal itself, and then go back to playing basketball like always. In fact, I remember telling the Mild Girlfriend that I hoped it healed within the week, so I could play basketball the next week uninhibited.
Well, as a week passed, my wrist felt mostly better (I got my full range of motion back fairly quickly), but it wasn't completely healed. I could still feel a twinge every now and then. Every now and then, I'd feel a twinge of pain when I reached out to push a door with my left hand. Hm, so maybe it was a worse sprain than I had originally thought. Well, one night, a bunch of the munchkins came over to the house, and I was at the door greeting a few of them. Since I was friendly with all of them, I greeted them and put up my (left) hand for a high-five. Most of the kids just gave me a quick slap, but one of the older ones reared back. In hindsight, I should've known he'd do that. He's always liked doing that. Most of the time, I don't think anything of it. This time, though, my wrist kindly reminded me that it was, in fact, not healed. I winced, I pulled my hand back, and quickly explained to his mom that the kid didn't do anything wrong. No, I had just hurt my wrist a couple of weeks back (side note: as someone pointed out, my grimace is only going to encourage him to go even harder next time).
By now, it was starting to dawn on me that perhaps there was something amiss with my wrist. So, I emailed my doctor and stopped off for X-rays. The whole process was fairly quick, though sitting with a lead apron in your lap feels kind of funny. Within a day, I had the results: a fracture. It was a small fracture (3-4mm), but it was a fracture nonetheless. I didn't need surgery (phew), I didn't need a cast (meh), and I just had to wait for it to heal (okay then). The expected recovery time was different for each person, but my doctor said it might be weeks to months before my wrist was completely back to normal. I am currently in the "weeks" range, and I do feel slight progress. I can do a push up if I'm really careful, for example. However, I am under orders not to put heavy load on my wrist, so I can't lift weights at the gym like I normally would.
And THAT is where the funny part of this story comes in. See, I've had to tell people that I had to skip basketball or a CrossFit workout because I'm not sure my wrist could handle it. Everyone has been very understanding, but even so, I've gotten my share of amusing responses. Here are some of my favorites:
There are some downsides to the activity, though. I end up really freaking sore some times, and then mundane objects like stairs and chairs become obstacle courses that I have to navigate. Worst of all, though, are the injuries. I've been lucky so far, because I've yet to have any major injuries. I've rolled my ankle or stubbed a finger plenty of times, but in the grand scheme of things, those are all little things. The remedy for them is mostly just waiting it out. Your body more or less just heals itself, and you go on doing the exact same things you were doing before. The worst injury I'd had was dislocating my finger as a kid. As scary as it looked, the fix was really just popping it back into place.
My streak of good luck was bound to run out eventually. I was playing basketball a few weeks ago, and I took a tumble. There's enough movement and contact in a typical game that it's not entirely uncommon for someone to hit the ground. We don't usually aim for that kind of contact, but it's almost inevitable for the right type of contact to hit the right person at the right moment. It was just my turn, I suppose. So, I fell and I instinctively tried to brace my fall by reaching my hands out behind me. Honestly, I was most concerned about the fall at that point, but everything seemed to be in order. I got up, and we played on. In fact, I finished out that game and played another before I headed back to the office.
A day later, I noticed that my left wrist felt kind of sore. It must have been from the fall, I thought to myself. The muscles were still warm when we were playing, so I didn't really feel anything then. But I still had most of my range of motion, and there was no swelling. Oh well, it must be a sprain, I thought to myself. I figured I'd wait for it to heal itself, and then go back to playing basketball like always. In fact, I remember telling the Mild Girlfriend that I hoped it healed within the week, so I could play basketball the next week uninhibited.
Well, as a week passed, my wrist felt mostly better (I got my full range of motion back fairly quickly), but it wasn't completely healed. I could still feel a twinge every now and then. Every now and then, I'd feel a twinge of pain when I reached out to push a door with my left hand. Hm, so maybe it was a worse sprain than I had originally thought. Well, one night, a bunch of the munchkins came over to the house, and I was at the door greeting a few of them. Since I was friendly with all of them, I greeted them and put up my (left) hand for a high-five. Most of the kids just gave me a quick slap, but one of the older ones reared back. In hindsight, I should've known he'd do that. He's always liked doing that. Most of the time, I don't think anything of it. This time, though, my wrist kindly reminded me that it was, in fact, not healed. I winced, I pulled my hand back, and quickly explained to his mom that the kid didn't do anything wrong. No, I had just hurt my wrist a couple of weeks back (side note: as someone pointed out, my grimace is only going to encourage him to go even harder next time).
By now, it was starting to dawn on me that perhaps there was something amiss with my wrist. So, I emailed my doctor and stopped off for X-rays. The whole process was fairly quick, though sitting with a lead apron in your lap feels kind of funny. Within a day, I had the results: a fracture. It was a small fracture (3-4mm), but it was a fracture nonetheless. I didn't need surgery (phew), I didn't need a cast (meh), and I just had to wait for it to heal (okay then). The expected recovery time was different for each person, but my doctor said it might be weeks to months before my wrist was completely back to normal. I am currently in the "weeks" range, and I do feel slight progress. I can do a push up if I'm really careful, for example. However, I am under orders not to put heavy load on my wrist, so I can't lift weights at the gym like I normally would.
And THAT is where the funny part of this story comes in. See, I've had to tell people that I had to skip basketball or a CrossFit workout because I'm not sure my wrist could handle it. Everyone has been very understanding, but even so, I've gotten my share of amusing responses. Here are some of my favorites:
- "Screw it, you've got two of them. Just come out and play."
This one comes from a guy who more or less did the same thing with his elbow. He got hurt, he laid off of it for a bit, but then he got antsy. He figured he'd rather play and risk the further potential injury, rather than be bored. I'm not going to lie, I've been there. I've done stuff like that before, and there are halfway decent odds that I'll play basketball again before my wrist is 100% healed. At some point, it's all about risk-reward. I can be good and sit it out, but I'll inevitably start getting the itch to play again. Or I could play and be mindful of the injury to minimize the risk of further injury. I'm pretty sure that at some point, basketball is going to win out.
- Me: "Can I modify this work out so I can still do it?"
Coach: "Oh yeah. What can't you do? I'll fix it so it still sucks for you!"
Yup, coach was looking out for me on this one. Did I mention there was an evil laugh at the end of that? Well, there was. And for the record, the workout did still beat me up. Burpees suck no matter how you do the push ups. - "It's okay, Sam, you'll heal. You're still young"
Funny, I've had people tell me the opposite of that lately. Still, I was quite amused to hear this. This came from one of the ladies who once asked me, "Old?! How can you say you're old?! Are you even 30 yet?" Let's just say I chuckled a little bit harder when I remembered who was telling me this. - Me: "I might have to skip some of the strength training sessions."
Coach: "You can squat! There's no wrist involved there!" *evil laugh*
That makes two zingers for my coach. Though to be fair, he's right. I still can find ways to work out or lift stuff with that kind of an injury. I just have to put in some thought and effort to how I want to work out.
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