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Hey folks. I have a story for you. And by I, I mean Mer, alternately known as ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fuzzybutchkins. You'll notice that I'm not flannelbutch Dani. This is an important detail to remember.
Monday night, a stupendously stupid thing happened. In the house of the textile butches, there was snuggling. And nakedness. And drafty windows. In particular,fuzzybutchkins was naked, snuggling flannelbutch, and slightly cold. Being the lazy slob that I am, I asked Dani to grab the edge of the blanket behind my shoulder and tug it up, therefore eliminating the coldness with a true minimum of effort on my part.
What happened next went by rather fast, but lets try to explain it with a physical example. First, sit on the floor with your back against a wall. Any wall will do, honestly. Next, extend your right hand outward at about the level of your shoulder and bend your elbow a to a little wider than 90 degrees. Now fully extend your thumb up and back and curl your fingers towards your palm, executing the familiar "thumbs up" maneuver. ("I have invented a maneuver!" Get it?) Here's the important part: imagine that you are trying to thumb a ride at a NASCAR event. Take your hand, still in the "thumbs up" position, and slam it into the wall above your shoulder behind you AS HARD AS YOU FUCKING POSSIBLY CAN. Thus endeth the lesson.
Turns out that somehow the blanket got stuck either under me or the cat or something, and Dani in her zeal to warm me pulled too hard. She lost her grip and slammed her hand into the wall and there was much ensuing pain. It continued to hurt through the night. It hurt even more in the morning. There was some numbness and more pain and an inability to move certain vital parts of her hand and wrist and it just wasn't pretty.
So, Tuesday, Dani goes into work and shakes down her co-workers for a decent doctor to visit. She visited the doctor, who poked her. The poking hurt, which the doctor duly noted and subsequently sent her down for Xrays. Before he let her out of his office, however, he gave her a flower. No, really. He actually did. He's just that sort of doctor. And it was Valentines Day. Whatever.
Long rambley story short, nothing is broken. However, there are some severe contusions, some non-consensual sinistralia and a hell of a lot of ouch. Suggested treatment is motrin it, wrap it, elevate it, and no masturbation*. Which is easy, since she can't really use the damn thing for anything at all. For instance, I need to fill out all of her medical forms from the doctors office (which they were kind enough to send home with her. Fuckers.), and since she can't type, I need to do her blogging for her.
Therefore, you probably won't hear a whole lot fromflannelbutch on here for a while. She may have me do some typing for her in the evenings, but mostly i have my own computer friends to attend, so the odds are somewhat slim. Just be reassured that she is fine and well taken care of for the moment, and will return to your loving embrace soon enough. While she can't do a whole lot of typing, she can use a mouse fairly competently and she will be reading her f-list and any replies you may make.
And, of course, she sends her love to the interweb.
*: Ok, the doctor didn't really say the part about the masturbation. I said it, but I only said it because a) it's very sage advice and b) he probably thinks it every time he sees a patient with an injury to their dominant hand.
fuzzybutchkins. You'll notice that I'm not flannelbutch Dani. This is an important detail to remember. Monday night, a stupendously stupid thing happened. In the house of the textile butches, there was snuggling. And nakedness. And drafty windows. In particular,
fuzzybutchkins was naked, snuggling flannelbutch, and slightly cold. Being the lazy slob that I am, I asked Dani to grab the edge of the blanket behind my shoulder and tug it up, therefore eliminating the coldness with a true minimum of effort on my part. What happened next went by rather fast, but lets try to explain it with a physical example. First, sit on the floor with your back against a wall. Any wall will do, honestly. Next, extend your right hand outward at about the level of your shoulder and bend your elbow a to a little wider than 90 degrees. Now fully extend your thumb up and back and curl your fingers towards your palm, executing the familiar "thumbs up" maneuver. ("I have invented a maneuver!" Get it?) Here's the important part: imagine that you are trying to thumb a ride at a NASCAR event. Take your hand, still in the "thumbs up" position, and slam it into the wall above your shoulder behind you AS HARD AS YOU FUCKING POSSIBLY CAN. Thus endeth the lesson.
Turns out that somehow the blanket got stuck either under me or the cat or something, and Dani in her zeal to warm me pulled too hard. She lost her grip and slammed her hand into the wall and there was much ensuing pain. It continued to hurt through the night. It hurt even more in the morning. There was some numbness and more pain and an inability to move certain vital parts of her hand and wrist and it just wasn't pretty.
So, Tuesday, Dani goes into work and shakes down her co-workers for a decent doctor to visit. She visited the doctor, who poked her. The poking hurt, which the doctor duly noted and subsequently sent her down for Xrays. Before he let her out of his office, however, he gave her a flower. No, really. He actually did. He's just that sort of doctor. And it was Valentines Day. Whatever.
Long rambley story short, nothing is broken. However, there are some severe contusions, some non-consensual sinistralia and a hell of a lot of ouch. Suggested treatment is motrin it, wrap it, elevate it, and no masturbation*. Which is easy, since she can't really use the damn thing for anything at all. For instance, I need to fill out all of her medical forms from the doctors office (which they were kind enough to send home with her. Fuckers.), and since she can't type, I need to do her blogging for her.
Therefore, you probably won't hear a whole lot from
flannelbutch on here for a while. She may have me do some typing for her in the evenings, but mostly i have my own computer friends to attend, so the odds are somewhat slim. Just be reassured that she is fine and well taken care of for the moment, and will return to your loving embrace soon enough. While she can't do a whole lot of typing, she can use a mouse fairly competently and she will be reading her f-list and any replies you may make. And, of course, she sends her love to the interweb.
*: Ok, the doctor didn't really say the part about the masturbation. I said it, but I only said it because a) it's very sage advice and b) he probably thinks it every time he sees a patient with an injury to their dominant hand.
