Sunday, March 11, 2012

Rice Krispy

We've now reached the point where I have to decide whether or not to go to the doctor.

My hand surgeon predicted this problem a couple of years ago. He and the physical therapist both noticed that weird things were happening with both of my hands.

Me: "Aren't tendons supposed to slip off the knuckles when you make a tight fist? To get out of the way if something?"

Hand Surgeon: "No, that's absolutely not what they're supposed to do."

Me: "Then mine are better than everyone else's, because they have a protective adaptation! Woohoo!"

Hand Surgeon: "It's going to be a problem at some point. It doesn't hurt now?"

Me: "Nope! My only problem is my mangled pinkie, so if we can focus on that, we'll be cool."

Hand Surgeon: "Eventually, though..."

Me: "LALALALA! I can't hear you! LALALAAAA!"

I don't want to hear that I have to have surgery, but I can't keep ignoring it. I woke up this morning and wiggled my fingers. Something in the middle of my hand snapped, and something else crackled, and another thing popped. Not good.

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