Ouch

I am injured.

Usually when I hurt myself, the cause is embarrassing. Once, I hurt my knee getting out of bed. Getting out of bed? The reason was as lame as I was. Of course, when I was asked at work, my explanation was more like "Uh, I guess I just twisted it somehow." Technically, I probably had just twisted it as I sprang from bed, eager to face a new day. I know my vague response was a let-down. When people see an injury they want a good story to go with it. When there isn't a story, I think most folks know the real reason must be pretty dumb.

But this time, this time I have an injury, and more importantly a cause, of which I can be proud. I hurt myself playing football, just like a real athlete. Well, we  were just playing catch, but still, a football was involved. And I'm not just a little injured either. Oh no, we're talking a fracture, folks. That's right, I broke a bone playing football. I can't wait to get to work and tell the guys.

I suffered for a few days before finally going into Urgent Care today for an x-ray. It was a little satisfying to tell the receptionist that I was there because I'd injured my hand playing football. Of course, I had to be a bit more specific with the nurse. I had to explain that I was playing catch and that, in trying to catch the ball, I had basically poked it with my index finger. When I explained to her that we often play football on Thanksgiving, she laughed and said, "Gee, just like some sort of TV family." Given the diverse families depicted on television these days I wasn't sure if I should be offended or flattered. I decided to go with flattered but only because I don't recall ever seeing Honey Boo Boo and her clan tossing the old pigskin in the yard.

So here I sit with a bum finger. It's my primary typing finger and the one I use for most of my mouse clicking. It's going to make it hard for me to work. Even worse, it's going to cramp my Cyber-Monday plans. It's the price I pay for being such a jock.