Well folks, in my last post I recounted how I nearly busted it on a morning jog. Turns out evening jogs aren't that much better!!
There I was, halfway through my jog, minding my own business. I had just told myself "pick up your feet"--30 seconds later, Hello Mr. Pavement--nice to meet you! (The City doesn't like to resurface its roads but once every 50 years or so...and my foot found just the right dilapidated spot).
By some unknown force I managed to miss my knees entirely. My right hand, however, was not so lucky. The side of my hand and pinky finger took the brunt of the fall.
After a choice word, I got back up, dusted what I thought was all the dirt off of me (I would later find dirt, dirt, and more dirt), and continued my jog. Bleeding and all. I mean--I still had to get back home right?-- and walking would take longer...plus at the time, I wasn't in that much pain. Endorphins are great, aren't they?? *grin*
On the way back, I called my sister to come take me to the doctor because I knew my hand needed to be cleaned out, and I would probably need a tetanus booster. Plus--I couldn't move my hand all that much, so I knew I wouldn't be able to drive myself.
Fast forward about 30 minutes or so, and the doctor is cleaning my hand a little to see if I need stitches anywhere. I don't, but in the process he pulled a ROCK out of my hand!! Hahahaha!
Road rash and a HOLE in my hand just below my little finger, palm side. My sister took a pic of the lovely mess, but I'll spare you that sight. Here is my hand post-cleanup, all wrapped up, and very sore. Sore, sore, sore! But, at least I will be able to do EVERYTHING with some daintiness with my pinky up in the air, as I currently can't bend it *grin*