The day before Christmas I tripped over a lumpy curb to get out of the way of a suddenly moving car and went down flat on the sidewalk. I popped right up with a bleeding cheek, black eye and injured hand. Not so bad considering what it could have been. Someone ran to get McDowell who came right away and found me walking home a bit dazed. The news that Miss Marian had 'fallen' went viral all over Portsmouth. I didn't fall, I tripped.
I gave the minor injuries a couple of days and had all kinds of advice on how to treat the now badly swollen hand. None of which I followed. Dominicans hate ice, they fear it in fact. But being a good Canadian, I knew my ice and applied it diligently.
Today I went to the Portsmouth Hospital Casualty and spent six hours there: 3 waiting for the triage nurse and then 3 waiting for the doctor. Again, not so bad. Most of the wait was outside, in the mountain breeze, listening to the chatter among the others who were also waiting, and I napped.
No pain, just swelling. My right hand is useless, fingers don't work or close, I can't hold a fork, do up my bra, hold a pencil, but my keyboard tapping finger is fine. It's a nuisance.
The tiny Cuban doctor says ice and time. She called it 'splin', I am sure she meant sprain. Anyhow, nothing was broken. She told me that the whole thing will turn all "cowloors" and will take 2 weeks.
I am grateful to the higher powers who are looking after me.
