Because I have not gone to a doctor, I really don’t know if I broke a bone in my hand. But I’m thinking I did.

June 5 marks six weeks since I injured my right hand. You know, my dominate hand. The one I do everything with.

The problem is that it still hurts. So, why not get an actual diagnosis? Well, because Dr. Google says the most likely outcome is a cast or splint if I did break something. That is going to make playing tennis and typing pretty difficult. Not to mention all the other things I ask my right hand to do.

A nurse practitioner said not much can be done with how I described where the pain and swelling are, and the fact I waited so long.

Well, of course there is the option of not doing anything and to stop doing what makes it hurt. I’m kinda doing that, kinda not. Clearly, I’m not completely stopping what causes me pain. I’ve cut back on the tennis. Chopping veggies hurts, and I’m opening wine bottles with my left hand.

“The human hand is made up of a total of 27 individual bones: eight carpal bones in the base of the hand, five metacarpal bones in the middle part of the hand and 14 phalanges (finger bones) are connected by joints and ligaments,” according to the National Institute of Health. “About one quarter of all our body’s bones are found in our hands.”

My problem spot involves the index finger on my right hand. Make a fist. See that bottom knuckle nearest the hand? That’s my sore, swollen spot.

Ice helps; especially at the end of the day when I’ve been pounding the keyboard. But typing is easier than putting pen to paper.

I’ve swapped out Advil for Voltaren to save my kidneys. But it seems like I’m washing my hands so often the gel is no longer present. Maybe it’s been absorbed so it’s a moot point.

Kae Reed on a mechanical bull in Austin in April. (Image: Becky Darrow)

So, how did I get this injury?

Riding a mechanical bull when I was in Austin, Texas, in April. I wasn’t even drinking. Even my mom said maybe I should have been so I would have been more relaxed. I don’t intend to try again to see if there is validity to that way of thinking.

It was so much fun. I’m sure I didn’t last a whole second the first ride when I went ass over head. I tried again. The operator of the bull had it go sooooo slow, but still it was hard to stay on. I did for 18 seconds that second and final time.

He told me to squeeze the “bull” with my legs. But that “bull” was slick and my pants didn’t help. That “bull” was so wide I had a hard time getting my leg over it in the first place. Then it was a rope that I was to grip; which was not easy or comfortable. I’m thinking that rope led to the hand issue—probably on one of my two falls. Other than the initial whooping it up, I held on with both hands.

You are correct to assume I signed a lengthy waiver before I was allowed on that bucking bronc. I’m probably lucky not to have been hurt worse.

I provided entertainment for my friends and the bachelorette party that was in the bar. And I had a smile on my face as I left.

Suffice it to say bull riding is not going to be my next profession or vocation.

Time to ice ….