Back in junior high, I played volleyball.
Now, please don’t think that I was all athletic or anything. The only thing I was really ever good at was swimming and even that I really had to work for.
Anyway, one day I went to hit the ball and jammed the joint in my middle finger. Okay, now that I think about it, it might have been a basketball that jammed my finger. No, really, I am that bad at sports and generally stayed away from it, so my sports injuries are rare. So rare that I can’t remember if I jammed my finger on a volleyball or a basketball.
What brings this up today? It’s been bothering me today. It hurts every time I type and any time I try to bend it. It’s a petty injury that keeps me from having a good adventure today.
I’d rather not be reminded of those horrible times of me trying to play sports at all. If I could go back to my younger self, I’d tell her to go home and write and leave the sports to all the other kids, that my future self would appreciate not having annoying little injuries.
Worse, I didn’t ice it very well when it happened and I’m still not smart enough to go and ice it now. That sounds cold, even though I know it might be the best thing for the joint.
Or, maybe I should now consider what will make my future self happy and go take care of the finger so that it keeps working for many years to come. After all, I have to take care of myself if I want to keep going.
Okay, I’m off to find a gel pack.