Yesterday, I managed to catch the thumb of my right hand between a piece of hard wood and a metal bar, resulting in pain that caused me to cry out the bluest language I have ever used in a lengthy tirade. Trying to sleep with your thumb beating out your pulse is bloody hard and I use my right arm as a counterbalance when sleeping, but I couldn’t do this owing to the pain in my thumb. Sleep was pitiful indeed.
Its been painful now for over 24 hours and it has only slightly subsided. What bugs me, however, is that if I went to A&E at my local MRSA-infested hospital (two in my area both with appalling records of MRSA infection rates), I would have sat their for 8 hours or so, not been treated and would have been pissed off. Of course, trying to get an appointment with your doctor on a Monday morning is also a “mission impossible”. This means that you might as well live with the pain, because it not much of an emergency.
If you need your hands to work, though, it becomes rather a problem. Attempts at typing this evening have been challenging indeed. Needless to say, my pace has slowed, but at least I managed to complete my work and, more importantly, this blog. If I can manage it (or find someone else to help), I will take a picture of my thumb and post it up for your amusement: anyone guessing the exact colour will win my respect.