THE UNFORTUNATE DEMISE OF MY RIGHT HAND
From a right-handed mystery writer
The day of surgery came fast. Since I wasn't allowed to eat past midnight, last night, I had no reason to interact with the evil refrigerator. I refused to give it a last moment of amusement.
Surgery was set for 8:30am, check in was 7:30am. I was put to sleep to the music of Hawaiian Slat Key Guitar music (my surgeon is from Hawaii). I woke up in recovery with what looked like a cast but was a full splint. My doctor came by to tell me that he found a second tear and he repaired it as well. That blasted refrigerator!
It hurt, but with pain pills, I didn't seem to care. Bill did a great job caring for me and my wound. The refrigerator had no opportunity to mock me since it had no communication with me.
So I have to admit I slept through most of the next 3 days blissfully on pain pills very aware of the huge splint that went from the first knuckle of my hand to the middle of my forearm. Heavily padded, the splint weighed a ton.