I'd Like To Take A Moment To Tell You All How I Sprained My Thumb

Indeed. Today I proudly wear a thumb splint, a little something I picked up at the behest of the emergency doctor less than 12 hours before heading out on my vacation-that-will-not-die. It is a shiny metal, four-pronged contraption, covered in virgin-white velcro straps. It has bright blue padding on the inside, and nevertheless cuts into my chubby little digit. It is my thumb splint and it prevents me from doing again what I did before.

And what did I do before?

Well, I'd like to preface this by saying that I've been hitting the gym pretty lately, and that despite uping the weights on my flies and incline flies... that thumb stretching has never been my #1 priority warm up. I have recently made a return to competetive thumb wrestling after a prolonged absence to hitch-hike across the country to raise money for thumb research... Oh, and I'm so positively lately, every movie, play, standup show or psychology convention I've been to recently has recieved an overly enthusiastic two thumbs up! My thumbs are exhausted... Really, it's no surprise that what happened happened.

I pulled up my tight jeans too hard.

That's when I heard the snap echo throughout the washroom at the movies, and I felt the pain of someone stab the appendage that seperates me from the animals with a rusty knitting needle. I did scream. (No one came to my aid...) And the knitting needle assailant must have run off because when I looked down the blood from the puncture must have been cleaned up and my thumb was still, miraculously, attached.

Now, I've never given birth to a human child who was 4 months overdue. But I imagine that what I felt is exactly like having a 30lb screaming infant pass through a small hole that someone has dug out of one's thumb with a small push pin. I have been punched in the face by a grown man. I have been hit by a car while (helmetless) on my bicycle. I have been forced to projectile vomit out of my own nose due to an abcess on my tonsil. But I have NEVER felt pain, physical or emotional, that even came close to rivalling this.

It also makes it very hard to type on this tiny netbook keyboard. But I will never be silenced, Dear Readers. However, I do think I'm going to lose 5lbs before trying to haul my ass into that particular pair of jeans again.

Now to find a bedazzler to trick this MF out! Oh, and figure out how to drive with only my left hand!