Why Broken Thumb?

In January, I made a resolution to be more active. Since it was winter, I figured that taking up skiing would be a good way to start. My first day on the slopes had me hooked, and I started skiing weeknights at Snoqualmie Pass. The Pass is very near my home in the suburbs of Seattle, so most nights I could easily get in a couple hours on the slopes. I developed my technique and forced myself to work up to harder runs. After a month, I'd gotten pretty good.

This season has had great snow and anticipating many more weeks of skiing, I bought my own gear: skis, boots, bindings--everything. But during that first week in February, the particular conditions were less-than-ideal. I watched the weather reports everyday, but the daytime temps were always a few degrees too warm which meant either slush or a crust of ice. So I waited until the second week to break in the new equipment, when the daytime conditions at last promised good nighttime skiing.

After work, I loaded my skis into the roofrack on my Xterra and headed to the Pass. During my third run I hit a large patch of ice. The snow there had been carved out, and I happened to be in turn when I hit it. I lost my edge, the skis swept from under me, and I slammed into the hill. Though I landed on my left shoulder, my outstretched right thumb struck the ice head on.

I didn't realize how bad it was until I went to get up. I felt the stabbing pain and knew the evening's skiing was over. Making my way slowly down the mountain, I began to realize how badly I jammed my thumb as the pain made me lightheaded and I feared I might pass out.

With some effort I made it off the mountain, down the snowy mountain pass and to the emergency room in Issaquah. The doctors there took x-rays to make sure I hadn't dislocated the thumb or fractured anything in my hand. They told me the x-rays didn't indicate any major injuries. I left the hospital reassured and hopeful for a fairly quick recovery.

A couple weeks later I went for a follow-up visit, but new x-rays indicated a potentially serious problem. My doctor referred me to a specialist who took still more x-rays. I was told that a ligament had torn away from the lowest knuckle of my thumb and had pulled a flake of bone with it. The doctor advocated immediate surgery.

On her advice, I scheduled the surgery for the following Monday, about four weeks from the initial accident. After leaving the office, however, I had second thoughts. I called her office with some follow-up questions. How long will I have to wear the cast? What if I elect not to have the surgery? How much mobility will I truly lose? However, her staff was evasive and made the operation sound mostly therapeutic, as in "it'll be easier to turn over the key in your car's ignition."

Because I consider the decision to have surgery, of any sort, a more grave affair than the average surgeon does, I decided to get a second opinion. Honestly, how agile does a thumb need to be to start a car?

The second specialist ordered an MRI, and he too recommended surgery. He told me that the problems associated with my broken thumb could lead to early-onset arthritis and other lifelong ailments. Either he was a better doctor than the first or a better salesman; regardless, he had me convinced.

So, one pleasant day in Spring, I had my thumb cut open, the ligament re-attached, and the wound sutured shut. Today is slightly more than eight weeks since the injury. And because the injury has delayed the commencement of this blog (one of my New Year's resolutions), I have named this space in honor of my handicap.

To know why it's a site with a U.K. address, you should listen to the Confab Podcast from this past week, April 12, 2006. You'll find it here.

Many thanks to Richard Huff for the URL hook-up. He did me a solid.