Knife bound

I think I'm going to grow a wrist beard. OK, not that kind. I think I'm just not going to shave until I'm cleared to ride outside. Based on today's trip to the ER and the subsequent visit to the sports orthopedist/former Tour of Somerville winner, it looks like I'll be out of racing action for six weeks. Hopefully I'll be able to ride a trainer indoors before then, but the prognosis is not excellent.

I was hoping to post my x-rays on the blog tonight, but the disc they gave me doesn't seem to want to work with either of my apple computers. So, it will have to suffice for me to tell you that I sustained a fairly sever injury to my wrist, resulting in fracture to my distal ulna (? or something like that), which is bad enough to require surgical intervention. I'll go under the knife on Thursday, and have a plate inserted on my wrist. After which, I'll be recovering for a few weeks.

As you can imagine, the news has hit me like a ton of bricks. No riding? For weeks on end? At the solstice? Fuck my life.

I'm very lucky that my Mom is free to come out to Emmaus and take care of me while I'm under the influence of anesthesia, and hopefully I'll find ways to manage when my arm is cast, following the surgery, I understand that I'll be wearing a fairly intensive splint for about two weeks following surgery. Just wonderful.

I'll have plenty of time to parse all this in the coming weeks. I'll also have time to think about my beard, as I'm thinking of not shaving until some pre-determined milestone later this summer: Maybe when I'm cleared to ride outside. Maybe it's when I'm cleared to pedal my trainer. Either way, it should be a pretty good act of protest to against my injury. Also, based on the amount of trouble I have brushing my teeth, I imagine that shaving would be even harder.