It happened right around 5PM and I immediately called Dr P's office but got her answering service. So D drove me to Doctor's Care. I was worried about my hand, it just didn't feel right. So, they put my hand down in a basin of iodine to clean it. It was a test of my fortitude to keep it submerged for 15 minutes because it burned! I was able to make a fist when asked, but it was difficult. The doctor decided to take x-rays just to be on the safe side. Then they bandaged me up and sent me home with directions not to unwrap for a day and then slather on the ointment as directed.
My fingers were all squashed together inside the wrapping and all I wanted to do was flex them. But I was good and waited. I couldn't get comfortable on my side of the bed, so I switched with D. It felt odd but it was best for the hand. The next morning my chin was a terrible blackish purple but my hand didn't look all that bad.
It took/takes about five bandaids each changing to cover the wounds. Even though I did as much as possible left-handed, my lower knuckle continually hurt all week long. The review of my x-rays showed nothing was broken. I guess I was just having difficulty forming a solid scab there because it's a joint. Looking back, I was so fortunate. I could have broken fingers or hand or nose. My glasses could have broken and sent glass into my eye..
Only today, a week later, does my hand feel markedly better and the bruising on my chin has improved a lot.
What I hated through the whole experience was how people would look at D. Or how I would perceive them to be looking at him. Like the nurses whispering at the clinic or people at work who avoided looking at me or asking what happened. My boss even asked if he needed to 'have a word' with D. As if. It just made me feel bad. I think I will be extra-cautious on curbs for a while now.
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