It was early enough in the day that I didn't have to wait too long at the hospital. The doctor confirmed what they told me in Fort St. John. I needed surgery.
"The good news is that we managed to book you in this afternoon," the doctor told me.
"Great, how long will I be in hospital?"
"You should be out tonight," he said. "They'll cut open your hand, straighten the bone, and screw a plate into it to give it some strength while it heals. Then they'll sew you up and you'll be on your way."
"How long until I can go back to work?" I asked.
"Well, you can probably start using the hand as long as you're careful in about a week. By which I mean, opening doors, eating and drinking - that kind of thing. It will still hurt though. And you should be careful with it. The plate won't be a strong as your bone was before the accident and you don't want to break it as well. I wouldn't go back to planting for about six weeks if you're smart."
After surgery, they doctor told me again to take it easy for a while and prescribed some percocet for the pain. I got the prescription filled in the pharmacy in the hospital. I took one right away. It made me a bit woozy, but killed the pain. I was exhausted now. I tried to think who was in town that I could call but I couldn't come up with anyone that I had the energy to talk to. I wandered up Whyte Avenue and checked into the Strathcona Hotel.
I dumped my stuff in my room and walked down the hall to one of the bathrooms. The room had one wooden chair and a bathtub. I sat on the chair while the tub filled with water. My hand was starting to hurt again but I was worried about falling asleep in the tub so I didn't take another pill.
Once the tub was full I got out of my clothes and stepped into the water. I lay in the tub for about half an hour, just staring at the ceiling with my right hand on the edge of the tub. I bent my legs and pulled my knees out of the water. My skin was getting a bit pruny and about a dozen thorns were working their way to the surface. They were like little bristles sticking out of little red patches on my skin. I leaned forward and tried to scrape them out of my skin with the fuckyou fingernail on my left hand. That didn't work too well, but I found that if I pressed down on either side of the thorn with two of my fingers , the thorn would ooze out as if by magic. Playing with my thorns kept me occupied for another half an hour.
I washed my hair with my left hand, got out of the tube and dried myself off. I walked back to my room wearing my towel and took another percocet. I went to bed naked and fell asleep with my right hand on a pillow outside the covers.
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