The Big O...no not that...O
Back in November, Donna fell-tripped going up the stairs at her dermatologist’s office and smacked her left hand on the marble steps to break her fall. OUCH!!! It plumped up like a Ballpark frank. They gave her an ice pack at the skin doc’s, examined her epidermis and sent her on her way. She dosed herself with Aleve, and returned to work. After all, we had a deadline! And for the next two months she typed with nine fingers or more accurately eight fingers, one thumb, and one swollen appendage that looked more like a big fat sausage than a thumb. It didn’t work too well either.
We went on book tour, had parties, signed a heap of copies of Gotta Keep on Tryin’ and finally, two weeks ago she saw a doctor, because it still wasn’t right.
Virginia said, “It’s probably broken and now it’s healed and they’ll have to re-break it so it sets right.”
Donna said, “It was probably a bad sprain and I’ll need to go to physical therapy.”
The Doctor said, “You have damaged the tendon, it will get worse, I have to operate.”
Tomorrow (Thursday) is operation day. We’re heading for the hospital at 5AM—but right now she’s got another couple of hours before the “nothing by mouth” rule kicks in—so we think it’s time for a glass of wine.
We’ll keep you posted...