We Don't Need No Stinkin' Ortho!

In keeping with the spirit of DIY, I did a little online research, called a few medical supply stores and constructed my own cast. I got tired of playing phone tag with my ortho doc's office, as well as the constant paranoia of knocking my splinted pinky into something. I really did not like the prospect of possibly having my finger rebroken and reset because of some mishap between now and my TBD appointment, so I thought what the heck. The cast is so much better than the splint. I should've done this a week ago!

I will of course still see my orthopedist, but that date is still not clear in my crystal ball. I'll just remove the cast before the appointment. You gotta love plaster casting tape. It's cheap and sets fast. I'm going to buy some more and make a mask for Halloween. Whee!

I Love Healthcare

Especially HMOs. So I get a referral from Sutter Roseville's ER to a local ortho surgeon last Friday. Unfortunately that person is not contracted as a provider through my insurance---a company that shall remain nameless. So, my insurer, that has a shield and is blue, says even though I have a referral from the ER, I still need to see my family doctor to get a referral to a kosher orthopedists.

Sooo, Monday I am able to get an appointment with my PCP (that's insurance-speak for Primary Care Provider) and he concurs with the former diagnosis, that I have indeed broken a finger and wrenched a knee. He sends me home telling me that his practice will set up the appointment with a "sports medicine group" in Sac and get back to me. That sits well with my male ego, the whole "sports" thing and all. I envision myself at my future appointment, reading Sports Illustrated in the waiting room, overhearing the conversations of other testosterone-filled patients: "So, how did you tear your ACL, Joe?" "I stunted on a blitz and got blind-sided by the slotback." "Yeah, I was in the octagon Saturday night and didn't tap out of a leg lock quick enough." "Tough break, dude ... and how 'bout you, man?" I lower my magazine to discover they are looking at me. I can feel the visible flush to my face (and that's hard to do if you know me) as I weakly offer: "Um, I was fishing and slipped on a rock." Cricket, cricket ...

Tomorrow will be me and my accident's one week anniversary. I haven't heard a peep from the sports folks, my finger is still castless, and my knee is far from NFL ready. My one consolation is that the knee swelling has transitioned from grapefruit to cutie. It's a sore little citrus, though. Lesson here folks: Don't leave your house. Stay in your well-padded coccoon and watch Roland Martin reel in the big ones on TV.

Photo above: Lost glory days at the river of doom.

Caught a Break

Slightly eventful weekend. Friday I shot up to Cisco Grove near Truckee to get a little river fishing in and try out some new Panther Martin spinners. I was manuevering over some rocks near the bank when I slipped and took a pretty good spill. All of my dainty frame right onto my right knee and a wonderful array of granite rocks. I was also holding onto my fishing pole in my left hand and I must've smacked it pretty good as well (see x-ray at left). Yep, my first official broken bone in 42 years (I think I broke my ribs back when I was a teenager, but never got 'em looked at, so they don't count). Ouch, yes, it's my drawing hand, but luckily I can still type and move a pencil. I just look more proper with my splinted pinky jutting straight out. :)

The more worrisome topic is my knee. Thankfully nothing was broken there, but I think I have some ligament and/or tendon damage; can't put any weight on it. And to move my calf left or right? Yacheewawa. I'll know more when I see the orthopedist this next week. Suddenly I find myself a pathetic invalid in my own house. I was able to drive myself home from the fishing trip, using my right hand under my knee to help get me lift my foot on the needed pedals, but once I got home, the swelling made it near impossible to get out of the car. My wife, bless her heart, jetted straight home as soon as I called her. After a trip to the ER, I'm splinted and braced, hobbling around on crutches. I'll post more on it once I've seen the doc.

The Story of a Designer

Lastnight I attended the opening of Kit Hinrich's new exhibit at Sacramento State University's Library Gallery entitled The Storyteller's Art. Kit is a legendary designer who's been a principal at Pentagram SF for decades. The show was awesome, a wonderful example of the union of word and image in graphic design. If you are in Northern Cal, I really urge you to catch the exhibit. He will also be delivering a lecture on campus on October 7th. Click here for more information. If that's not enough, his Long May She Wave exhibit, an installation showcasing his massive collection of American flag paraphernelia, will be at Reno's Nevada Museum of Art from October '08 to February '09.