Around this time 10 years ago I was in casts. My sense of time is so bad that I wanted to blog about the 10 year anniversary last year only to find out from a more clueful friend that I was off by a year. The only reason I remember the time of year is having to get out of taking finals that year.

So anyway … I was biking home one night and a huge garbage can jumped off the sidewalk and into my path. It was a magical can that was invisible until hit at high speed by a bicycle. It may have also appeared with a bike light but I was unequipped to test the hypothesis that night.

The next morning my roommate passed my room to find me in one cast half way up my bicep, and another one just below the elbow. A more classic double take could not be found.

What I remember most from the night of the accident was the xray tech with a bedside manner of gold. I waited 4 hours in the waiting room just to be seen. Then another few lying in a bed. They finally wheeled me down to xray, still not knowing quite what was wrong, so they could take some pictures. “Holy shit”, I heard off in the developing room, “this kid broke both of his wrists in exactly the same spot.” At least he didn’t tell me about my elbow too.

So there I was, 2 broken arms, no insurance, student job with no sick time. I don’t remember how many days I missed but it was certainly less than a week. I figured out how to type with 2 broken arms. I figured out how to eat. I even figured out personal hygiene, which was quite a challenge. After the first cast came off I was able to take the greatest shower in the history of personal hygiene.

Medically, things went as well as could be expected although I have a much higher risk of arthritis in those joints. The injury itself wasn’t that painful. The most painful part of the whole thing was when they gave me a local so they could readjust my bones. They used a big thick needle that could inject into the bone itself and stuck it right into my wrist. The actual needle part was a cake walk compared to how the jiuce felt being injected.

It was good and numb when the doctor started manipulating me. He was pretty focused on his work, trying to line things up. My wrist was turning ways it shouldn’t and bones were grinding together. I was wincing and grimacing when he looked up and said “Can you feel that?” “No,” I replied, “but it looks really painful.”

Long term, I’m more likely to get arthritis iin those joints than normal. And I’m sure my friends at the time will have entertaining stories to pass through the years. I was also pretty close to going back home to have my family help me, so in a way it solidified my staying in Tucson.

My love for biking seems to have been somewhat of a victim, as well as my hair. It was probablt to mid back length at the time, which isn’t sustainable withoit arms. Fortunately it was in the from of a mullett, so it was no great loss.

Maybe the single biggest impact was getting a real job out of it. My boss, who has always been great about recognizing and rewarding talent, was able to clearly illustrate how screwed they would be if they lost me. Even if I had taken a full week off, like a sane person, they would have been in trouble. Not to mention not having sick time.

In summary, I don’t recommend breaking your arms. Doing both at once is definately out of the question.