So...last Sunday night, I got up around 1 am to feed my cats who were wandering around making noise. Put them in the basement, turned around to go back upstairs, and tripped on the very first step (thanks in part to the fuzzy socks I was wearing). I landed HARD, really hard, and caught myself on my right ankle and left hand.
Wowowow....the pain in my ankle was incredible. All I could think was "Hope I didn't break it." Made it upstairs, found some ice, lay down on the couch, and hoped it was OK.
Next morning: a little swollen, more than a little black and blue, but definitely not broken. I showed my husband my battle scars, which also included a swollen & bruised left ring finger - it had definitely hurt the night before, but not nearly as much as the ankle. So I ignored it.
Live and learn. By the end of the day Monday, my finger was discolored and even more swollen. By the time I woke up on Tuesday, it had gotten worse. Yesterday afternoon, I decided I'd better have it looked at - and since I work with a group of nurses, they recommended I have a jeweler cut off the rings rather than whatever type of hacksaw they use in the ER.
So I did. The woman who did it was lovely, though she kept apologizing because yeah, it hurt, and I'm sure I was flinching. The worst part by far, though, was knowing she was cutting off my engagement and wedding rings - straight through the "ETERNAL LOVE" inscription. Sigh.
Went to the ER, got an x-ray, found out I have a teeny tiny fracture in the finger, and came home with a funky looking splint. So small. Barely visible on the film. Yet it swelled up my finger to twice its normal size.
I know they're just rings. But I didn't expect to be so upset to lose them that way. Yes, the jeweler can fix them. But it's funny how a symbol like that can grow to mean so much over the years...