THOK! (in the Northern Hemisphere)

Dislocated my pinkie finger again. This time, the other hand, actually.

Over the weekend, Sharon was having a momma-daughter day with Lucy, and I was having a daddy-daughter day with Rose. Things were going famously. I was in the midst of teaching Rosie to ice skate, when I went down fast and hard, right onto my pinkie finger.

However hard it was, two years ago, when I had to get Lucy out of the house, into the car, and with me to the Urgent Care Clinic; consider that this time, I had to get a bundled-up Rose off of an ice-skating rink (along with a little chair she was using for balance), into a warming house, and actually change out of my ice skates and into shoes, one-handed. Then out, across the snow and to my car with Rose, buckling her up and getting on the road.

A sickening feeling, having my finger in this crumpled and distorted state for a long period of time. Rose was about as helpful as she could be:

Dan: "Rosie - daddy needs you to go AsFastAsYouCan!"
Rosie: "I AM going FastAsCan!"

We got to the hospital and the wait wasn't all that long. I did having the passing thought, right before the doctor reset the finger, "Hmm...didn't they give me something to deaden the pain last time?" The, Pop! And I let out an unexpected howl. Sonofabitch. That hurts. That and rolling an ankle. The lingering effects seem to have gotten generally better through the years, but the inital pain never does.

Anyway, so much for my new jazz piano hobby for at least a couple of weeks. And - oh - yeah, this was also quite certainly not the best week to start my new wakeup league basketball season.