Thursday, April 30, 2015

Broken Finger: One Year Later

Late in the morning, exactly one year ago last May I broke my first bone.

It's not exactly one of the "Definitive Moments in World History", nonetheless the memory of the stumble, panic, and the flight and all-day stay at the hospital lingers say nothing of the obvious scar on my finger. The tendons on one side of my index finger are gone, and it swells if left in a down position for too long.

I never went into the subject in depth though: My hands!

They are massive, and the idea they could still be massive yet minus one digit was a few millimetres away from a reality that day. More or less, they are a spectacle to everyone or anyone who notices them. Slightly smaller than NBA great Shaquille O'Neal's hands, they measure fourteen inches in circumference, give or take. According to a boxing fan friend of mine they are about the same size as the late heavyweight champion Sonny Liston. I didn't envision becoming the next Sonny, so I just smiled, nodded, ran to the nearest faucet I could find, and doused them in cold water to shrink my hand size.

My secret crush from the previous decade noticed my hands, too. Oh yes! It was years ago, and she put her hand in mine to measure. Outside, I was nonchalant about it, but inside I was gushing. 😍 *Phil calm down* 😒

Before the injury, I could do the infamous "Four Hoops" trick, where I bend my fingers back and form four circles with my hands. I did this to freak out small cousins. 😁

There are disadvantages, though. Basketball jokes, wacky spelling mistakes on the keyboard, mostly. However, it's playing instruments where I have the most trouble. Where the bass guitar is a dream come true, intricate guitars and keyboards are a musician's nightmare. Never did I hit so many dual notes on strings than with these demonstrative digits! In spite of this, in the ten years since first picking up my old acoustic guitar, and getting blisters within minutes of playing Wonderwall (badly) these hands helped get me back into music, and into writing.

To think, it all could have disappeared that rainy day sixty miles west of Toronto. Everything in our lives, and about us is a gift, and at any moment they can be taken. My hope is these hands, as large as they are, will be used for good and wholesome purposes. 😮 👐 😀

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