Sunday 20 May 2012

Adding injury to insult

Well if last weekend was frustrating, this weekend took the biscuit. We were up against Aston, and as with last week we had the relatively new innovation of a warm-up before the game. After a bit of gentle running around playing catch we moved on to an exercise where one person would lob the ball up in the air for an oncoming fielder to catch. I had already set off to catch a ball when Dan, keen to make the exercise a little more challenging, started telling me to touch the ground before catching the ball, which threw me enough to not quite get my hands under it, resulting in a dropped catch and an unusual sensation in my right hand.

As I looked down I was somewhat perturbed to see the little finger on my right hand pointing in a highly unorthodox direction. Having never broken a bone or dislocated a joint in my life I really didn't have the first clue as to what had happened, except that whatever it was it wasn't healthy. I couldn't move the finger at all, not because it hurt too much - it just refused to operate. It was extremely distressing to have a part of my body reduced to the status of Associate Member, but Ali soon surmised that it was dislocated rather than broken, and said I could either go to hospital or reset it myself, warning me that it would be painful.

To be honest, putting it back wasn't very painful at all, I just pulled the finger straight and it popped back in with a small, sharp pain not much greater than having an injection. As soon at it popped back in it was moving fine, but after a few minutes it started to ache, and after brief practise bowling in the nets I decided the game was up and I couldn't play. It was starting to bruise and swell up and the pain, while not extreme, was enough to stop me concentrating on the feel of my spinning finger, a situation that was only going to get worse. So that was my weekend over.

Naturally, when I told Dan I couldn't play he was full of sympathy, the first words out of his mouth being "So er, do you suppose you could do the scorebook then?" which would have annoyed me intensely if I hadn't seen it coming a bloody mile off. Like the 24 carat mug that I am I did score the first innings, but after that I couldn't keep writing as pressing down on the little finger wasn't doing it any good. I have to say Dan's lack of sensitivity to other people's point of view is beginning to wind me up, and I don't think it'll do him many favours in the long run.

A few keepers gave me some tips on what to do with it after the game, and today I fashioned a splint out of a beer mat trimmed and bent into a little girder - quite a neat job though I say it myself. Recovery time seems to vary depending on who I speak to, some say I should be back playing next week, others that it needs three weeks' rest. Either way, I can't do any bowling and all sorts of minor tasks are now a major hassle, like opening a coffee jar or working a cigarette lighter. I suppose if I was an optimist I'd say I must have got all my season's bad luck out of the way nice and early, but right now I have to say I'm just extremely pissed off.

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