February 22, 2003

Typing and Shoe-Tying

COLUMBIA, S.C. - The orthopedist visit came a week after being back in the States. Did the typical bit; remove the plaster splint and wrap, x-rays - no, I told the technician, I’m not pregnant - and an examination by Dr. Ross Lynch.

I was sentenced to 35 days as Dr. Lynch pronounced the “good job” seal of approval about the German repair job on my wrist. Credited with time served I had another three weeks in a new fiberglass cast. Originally it was an intertwined Gator orange and blue, but for some reason it was rather uncomfortable having hardened tight and crooked. So the following day brought a redone solid orange cast. Add white padding and gauze and I’m constantly accused of being a Clemson fan.

In the past three days or so the level of pain has subsided considerably. The range of motion I had before busting my stupid radius has returned within understandable limits, considering. All told I still have to remember about the two three-inch steel pins holding the tip of the bone onto my arm. Dammed gravity.

Four days ago I had the first reminder that my body would bounce back from the iced pavement it fell onto in Germany. I tied my shoelaces for the first time since hitting the walkway three weeks ago. I was so proud of myself I told anyone in the newsroom who would listen. Hell of an anniversary gift, eh?

Then, last night, I enjoyed typing with both hands. You know, fingers on home row and everything. The one-handed thing was a bit maddening; so much so I just about felt like a mute having been slowed to a literary crawl. That, and following my hand around the keyboard and occasionally swimming my eyes up to the screen to make sure I typed the right dammed thing became rather nauseating.

But I can now typewrite my own language at normal speed. It feels like duct tape was just ripped away from my mouth. Relieving. I almost want to run outside to scream, “I can communicate again!” for anyone who would listen.

Quite obviously my arm is still not 100 percent, but I’m chomping at the imaginary bit to get back overseas and cover the military. My call into the doctor to get his opinion on when that might happen should be answered Monday. I hadn’t traveled out of the country in nearly nine years and had forgotten how enjoyable it is. I just might bribe the guy to give me a clean bill of health at least a week before I would actually have it.

Oh well. I’ll be out of here soon enough, hopefully. Even if I don’t go on the first wave of people covering the war, the U.S. military will be in the Middle East for a while during and after any supposed conflict. Occupation will be a dangerous bit to accomplish and will provide ample opportunity to work in Kuwait and Iraq.

But at least I have my typing and shoe-tying skills back. Here’s to small miracles.

- Rich