Jan 23, 2011 09:36
I broke my right middle finger on Thursday. It broke off a little chunk of my joint. My P.E. teacher, thinking it was a jam, started fucking around with it, even when I told him it really hurt. W/e. Same guy who didn't believe that I broke it after someone told him.
So they do x-rays, give me a splint, send me home. Get a call that evening, saying that I'm, under no circumstances, allowed to remove the splint. And I have an appointment with an orthopedic on Monday. So I've been really worried that something's wrong.
Eating breakfast this morning. Dad starts talking about how, since it's full separation, they may have to give me surgery to push it back together. They have to do it soon, since it may heal wrong. If it's untreated, I may not be able to use the joint anymore. Etc.
Thanks a whole fucking lot, Dad. Like I wasn't worried before, now I have to think of having surgery and not being able to move my finger and shit. That's wonderful.
And btw, when I stalk off almost crying, don't keep talking about me getting surgery.
And now he and my mom want to ask the doc if my coach messing with it fucked something up worse. Thanks, guys. Cuz I don't have to deal with the ass the rest of the semester.
obnoxious complaining is obnoxious,
real life,
my coach is an ass,
what even