Steve rushed me to a minute clinic; I didn't start to cry until we were in the car... not because it hurt, but because the panic was setting in, about my future as an artist and classical pianist. I couldn't think of a good reason why God would let this happen, and yet, I knew I had to trust that everything would work out okay. Fear and panic should never be allowed to take over - I have learned that from painting! Fighting through the fear and using it to stop and re-focus, always leads to a better painting. Always. I tell that to my students, and now I am finding just how crucial it is in everyday life as well.
When we got to the clinic, the nurses got me in ahead of the line, put an ice pack on my swollen finger, and took x-rays. Then Steve pulled out his iPhone and we watched the Byan Regan skit about the emergency room to keep our spirits up while we waited for the doctor to give us a prognosis. When the doctor finally came in, he told me that the base of the distal phalange had shattered, and that he had counted at least four small pieces, floating around in there. He gave us some recommendations for hand specialists, put a temporary splint on my finger, and wrote me a prescription for pain meds before sending us on our way.
Pretty sure it's not supposed to look like this...
The next day (Tuesday), Steve managed to get me in right away to see one of the area's best orthopedic specialists, Dr. Lund (all the other specialists were booked solid and wouldn't be available for a consult for an entire week!). After reviewing my x-rays, Dr. Lund confirmed that it was worse that we originally thought: the bone had been compressed by the impact of the ball, shattering the base into at least 6 pieces, maybe more. He said he would schedule me for surgery as soon as possible to try and push the pieces back into place before too much scar tissue develops. I'll have to wear a cast up to my wrist for at least the first week, to ensure absolutely no movement in that finger. Then I'll wear casts on the finger for several weeks after that, followed by several rounds of physical therapy. The doctor said a successful surgery would allow me to bend the joint 35 degrees, but that arthritis in that joint will be a given when I get older.
I took all this news with some degree of sadness, thinking about all the years I had spent practicing piano, and of course the months ahead, where I might not be able to paint at all. And in the back of my mind, I heard my parents telling me over and over again, "Don't play sports - you'll injure your hands!" (such wisdom, and this grown-up twenty-something ignored it...) Then I thought, "No, I'm meant to be an artist and musician! Even if they took my whole hand, that wouldn't stop me from doing what I love!" As one of my friends said, "You'll probably learn how to paint with your teeth or something. You can't NOT paint." She's right. I can't NOT paint.
That being said, I don't really know what the next few weeks will bring, once I've had this surgery. Right now, I am surprisingly okay. I used to worry about something happening to my left hand, and now that it has... I'm discovering that it's all okay, because I truly believe with all my heart that God is in control of this situation. And I'm not just okay... I'm filled with the joy of the Lord.
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11
The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song. - Psalm 28:7
One last thought: just after this happened, I was reading chapter 7 of Ann Voskamp's "One Thousand Gifts," and she described the Old Testament story about Jacob wrestling with God. The angel touched Jacob on the "sinew of his thigh", breaking him at the strongest place in his body. But Jacob struggled on and wouldn't let go until the angel blessed him. “The Lord has to break us down at the strongest part of our self-life before He can have His own way of blessing us.” ― James H. McConkey I have a feeling that this incident is going to be a real learning experience for me... I will be forced to slow down and take time for God, family and friends, and me. Maybe putting the art on hold won't be the worst thing in the world... maybe, it's really a blessing in disguise.
