Broken Arms
Many people have never broken a limb. I've broken my left arm five times... just lucky I guess (or stupid).
~ Aristotle Sabouni
Created: 2003-06-04 |
Broken Arm: 1971[edit source]
The first time I broke my arm, I was about 7, and I did it on an after school swim team that I was on... which begs the question, "How did you break your arm on a swim team?" The answer is stranger than you might expect... |
Going both ways?[edit | edit source]
Before I'd broke my left arm, I was ambilateral (or ambidextrous). I used to write or eat with either hand, and was pretty cross-wired. It used to bug teachers. One hand would get tired of writing, and I'd just switch. Or a teacher told me to write "I will not do xxxx in class" a few hundred times, and I'd do two lines at once; writing with both hands. And many other human pet-tricks.
The break only took a couple months to heal, but I favored it a lot longer than that. (I didn't trust it). And I had gotten out the habit of using it, so I became far more right handed. I couldn't write well with the left at all, and because I wasn't using it as much, so I became far less ambilateral as time went on (re-inforced with later breaks).
Karate Breaks: 1987 & 1988[edit source]
My next big break (pun groan), was when I was 24 and in Martial Arts tournament, sparring (blue/green belt). I took a kick to the arm, and kept going. My wing kept hurting, and after nearly passing out a couple times, so I went to the Hospital and had it X-rayed. They got it wrong (ignored a hairline) it snapped a week later. Then I re-snapped it a couple months later. |
Loading a gun with a broken arm[edit source]
Besides a Ruger .22 that I had (and a rifle or two), I decided that my first gun should be a hand-cannon: the Desert Eagle .357 magnum Semi-Automatic. (They didn't yet make the .44 or .50). When I broke my arm, I needed it chambered, and I couldn't use my arm. Pinching it between your legs and pulling turned out to be a very strong life lesson on "what not to do". |
Stairway Break: 2015[edit source]
So I'm minding my own business, walking down the stairs and swoop -- my feet hit something slippery on the edge of the step, and shot out from under me. My arms go out, and my right catches the bannister, my left braces behind me on the stairs and I go down pretty hard. Ouch. I didn't know it right away, but another broken arm. |
Conclusion[edit | edit source]
My broken arms weren't a big deal. They hurt more afterwards than during; the days of throbbing afterwards and that f'ing cast were far worse to me than the actual act itself. I got more cautious if for no other reason than the major annoyance of having to deal with being in a cast all that time. I'm still tender to that arm, decades later, just out of fear of going through that again.
Things could have gone a lot worse. I wasn't always bright about healing or risk taking. I wouldn't recommend cutting off of casts, or setting things yourself, or not just going and getting it checked out by a doctor. Any could have caused more problems than they did. But I got lucky and I have no lingering effect. It throbs occasionally, and can tell me of pending weather changes. I also have a little less range of motion in my left than in my right arm that comes with years of non-use (and the first elbow injury) - and I went from being ambidextrous to more right handed because of it. But all and all, it is fine - and sometimes we learn life's lessons the hard way. Those were some of my learning experiences.
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