Mum was asking earlier about how I looked now with a beard.  Well, this is how I look.  I have to say that I don’t see it lasting much longer.  Maybe I’ll give it another week or so. No, apparently I really never do smile for photos... have to change that. You can go ahead and click the picture if you want a larger version.

So, it has been a week since I fell off my bike and I’m starting to heal nicely.  The most serious thing is the left hand, where I had the surgery.  They took off the whole-hand bandages on Friday and replaced them with a very funky shape-memory material sleeve which is just covering the offending finger.  The reduction in bandage size allows me to do things I wasn’t able to do a lot of last week… like washing for example.  I can fit both hands into disposable surgical gloves now and take a shower, which I have to tell you is sheer bliss. Try not being able to shower with your hands taped into rubbish sacks!  My right hand is almost healed too.  I have a couple of plasters on it now, and the stitches will come out on Friday.  Likewise with my lips and chin.  However, I wasn’t able to shave last week, so I have an eight day old beard now which doesn’t look as bad as I though it was going to.  I’m not sure if I’m going to have to shave to have the stitches out or not, but either way I kind of like this look.  My Dad has had a beard forever, and he looks good in it.  I personally haven’t ever been that enamoured with the idea, but Anna likes it so it very well might stay.

I don’t know what the schedule is like for taking the stitches and splint out of my finger yet. Two different doctors gave differing answers of six or eight weeks, but I guess it depends on how well it heals. The volar ligament is damaged at the proximal interphalangeal joint which could take a lot of time to fully heal. There’s a big titanium bar going from intermediate phalange through the distal phalange, then looping around outside the tip of the finger and going back in again.  When it comes out its going to be another surgery.  I’ll try to get some pictures of the work when the dressing is changed on Friday, but suffice to say its all pretty ugly. The crash caused a stone to slice into the ligament which makes the healing period a long one from all I’ve heard. 

What a fun weekend this is turning out to be. On Friday I was on my way to German class when I fell off my bike. It was a perfect "oh shit" moment... I had some good music playing on my MP3 player (it was U2, but I can't remember the track), and all of a sudden the bike just wasn't there anymore. The path through the park that I was cycling on had been heavily gritted from the snow over the last few weeks, and the snow had melted. It must have been bold enough to freeze water though, because I think I slipped on some. After falling onto my face I picked myself up and immediately checked to see how many teeth I had broken. There were none, but my hands came away covered in blood, and then I noticed my finger. That it was broken wasn't in doubt as it was hanging at a strange angle and wouldn't move for me. I had also cut deep into the knuckle (the first one from the tip).  The cut was deep enough that I could see bone, and a couple of pieces of gravel just to add flavour to the mix.  The other hand was lacerated to hell and back too, with most of the skin from the palm left on the ground.

I phoned Anna to let her know what had happened, and to ask her to get one of her parents to take me to the hospital.  Then I went home to try and get cleaned up as best I could.  Lest you think I’m exaggerating here, the trip home was eight to ten minutes long and I apparently still dripped blood on the floor at home.  I haven’t been home yet because they kept me in the hospital overnight for observation, and apparently they want me to stay until Monday.  Fuck that. They also cleaned and bandaged my chin, and stitched my upper lip.

Anyway, after getting cleaned up here, the doctor scheduled me for surgery on the finger to get it cleaned out and potentially repaired.  That was going to be done under local anaesthetic so as to keep things simple.  As is my wont in cases like this, I pestered the surgeon (apparently one of the best hand surgeons around) with questions about what was going on.  He wouldn’t let me watch when I asked, because the surgery was already underway and I wasn’t sterile.  Actually I was a fucking mess at that point, with bits of grit still in my hair.  There is now a piece of titanium wire holding my finger together, and you can see it looping out of and then back into the end of my finger.

So now its 14:30 and we’ve been waiting for the surgeon all day.  The other guy in the room with me had a skiing accident, and we were laughing that I never even made it as far as getting to the damn piste before ending up in hospital.

<later/> I can go home.  The doctors don’t entirely approve, but the environment at home is far more conducive to my sanity to be home instead of sitting in bed in a white hospital room for the next two days.  All that is going to happen is that they’re going to change my dressings anyway.  I’ll post more ad soon as I’ve got a few hours to type it all.