Against Medical Advice


I’m grateful for today. It’s been long and full of activity. I’m happy to be back at Chad & Co.’s and propped up in my bed. They got the AC fixed upstairs so I’m able to sleep up here tonight. I still have the floor fan on the bedside table blowing on me. I think that ages your skin faster but I’ve never been one for trying to look younger. Who cares! Sleeping with a fan blowing on you (or actually 3 fans when I’m in America Junction) makes for goooooood sleepin’. Kolby’s joined me in the bed now so the light’s off. He’s got school in the morning. I would have thought the little feller was asleep except for the bed shaking fart that just sounded from underneath the covers and I can see his satisfied grin by the light of the computer screen. I’m going to be very careful not to fan the covers. Six-year-old boy farts can be lethal!

I had a date with another corn-fed Auburn boy tonight. We met for a burger and then went to Kolby’s baseball game together. He’s a great guy (and sexy as hell) and we had a lot of fun. If I’d’ve known this dating this was so fun, I would’ve started it about thirty years ago.

Tomorrow I’ll go back north and check in on Mom. I’ve been on the phone with her today and with her medical team– so has Krystle. I’ll continue to keep her medical details private until we know more about what’s going on. I know what you’re thinking: “How unlike Jeff to keep anything private!”

I went to the VA this morning as I was instructed to do. I’m not going to tell you what they said because– okay, I will tell you but I’m begging for no feedback or advice. I have a fracture in my fifth metacarpal on my right hand. This we knew already from my Emergency Department visit on Friday. I’ve worked out twice since I broke it– well, actually three times but once was legs. I’ve done two workouts that required the use of that hand. The pain was minimal and I have almost full range of motion. I set the bone right after I broke it so it’s back in place where it should be. I thought I was done at the VA until they called and said I had a follow-up with the orthopedist. I would bet you $1000 he didn’t look at my x-ray for more than a minute. He spoke with me for less than 30 seconds. Good job on working for that paycheck today, Doc. Basically he told the PA to put me in this HUGE splint and told me to wear it and keep my finger immobilized for five weeks. So I asked him, “Should I modify my workouts in any way?” He said, “Oh you can’t work out.” So I said, “Well, my workouts are a very important part of my self-care around PTSD.” I would think this if nothing else would have stretched our “visit” a little bit beyond thirty seconds but he did all but ignore what I’d just said. “You’ll have to do something else. Nothing using upper extremities.” and then he disappeared behind the hospital curtain like a magician.

I didn’t even make it home before I had chewed that whole apparatus off.

If I had to go five weeks without working out. Y’all would find me swinging by the neck from the rafters with that ace bandage that is shown in the photograph crumpled by the fiberglass splint on my worktable du jour. Sorry for wasting taxpayer money. Oh well. Guess what else I couldn’t do with that splint on– this! I couldn’t type. Take away my writing and my workouts and you wouldn’t just find me swinging by the neck from the rafters, I’d’ve taken some other people with me.

But as it stands, it’s all good. Because I will be doing my workouts and I will be continuing this writing which is literally saving my life. And my broken fangerbone is gonna be juuuuuuust fine.

See y’all tomorrow.

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