I've been lying for twelve years

When I was a freshman in high school, I was called up periodically to play on the Varsity softball team. I had made the Junior Varsity team, so being called up to play was a big deal. During districts, I was called up to play for the games. Obviously this was an even bigger thing, even if I was only sitting on the bench. During the first game, I was put in the game to pinch run (think we were playing Kettering maybe? Them or Clarkston, my memory is failing me right now) and I was given the steal sign to steal third. Back then, I was a pretty damn good base runner (still am, but not as fast since my knee injury) and I knew the importance that when I did steal, I stole third successfully.

Let me paint the picture for you: the pitcher is on the mound and she glares back at me on two like 'bitch stay put' and I mean mug her back with my signature 'kill look.' Meanwhile, the catcher's got her panties in a twist (omg I hate that word... the p one... and as I typed it I said it in my head and I'm cringing now but the word is what makes the saying so I had to say it) because she knows she's gonna have to throw down to third and thinks she can throw me out - WRONG BITCH, YOU AIN'T THROWING NOBODY OUT! After the pitcher releases, zing! Off I go, and before you can say go hang a salami, I'm a lasagna hog (that's a palindrome by the way... you're welcome) next thing you know I'm sliding head first into third safe. One would expect me to be happy. I stole third successfully and accomplished my mission. Except I am not because I am suddenly struck with godforsaken pain in my hand. OHMYFUCKINGGOD I THINK I AM GOING TO DIE. What evil softball god is bestowing this pain into my hand, why are you punishing me? Is it because I stole? Because really, I didn't, I swear, promise the third base is safe and sound still on the ground. Clearly, something is wrong, but I sluff it off and eventually get hit in and have my hand looked at. In between games, the trainer says it might be a sprain, and to have it iced and checked by my doctor.

So what do I do? Ice it, and then before the next game, have the genius idea to play catch with one of the girls who has the best arms on the team. It only took one throw to have my mitt come flying off because the force of the ball hurt my hand so badly (honestly, sometimes I think back at some of the genius ideas I've had in the past and wonder how the hell I'm still around to tell the world of them... sigh).

To make my already long introduction short, eventually I went to the doctor and was told it was a ganglion cyst, which should heal by itself, but if it doesn't, surgery is an option. Of course, since it wasn't made out to be all that big of a deal, I sluff it off and go along my merry way, because clearly I can't have surgery if I'm playing softball. Can't miss out on travel ball because I am a super star, end of story. Jennie Finch in the house, biz-och.

Fast forward to today, twelve years later, when my "ganglion cyst" is still bothering me because I re-injuried my hand this summer playing coed softball. Today, I finally decided to see an orthopedic hand surgeon about my "ganglion cyst" and was advised that I've been lying for twelve years now. My "ganglion cyst" is actually a bone spur, which developed because I had torn ligaments in my hand. The bone spur was my body's way of trying to heal itself. Had I been told I had a torn ligament, and actually gotten surgery to fix it when it happened, twelve years ago, the bone spur would have never developed. I wouldn't still be in pain. More importantly, I wouldn't have allowed people to slam heavy books on my hand to try to pop my "ganglion cyst" after a few boozy drinks had I know it was a torn ligament and NOT in fact a "ganglion cyst." Seriously?! WTF PCP. You really screwed the pooch there with that misdiagnosis. Lettme give you a high five YOU SUCK.

I was given a cortisone shot and a brace today. Words of advice for those of you who have never had a cortisone shot: prepare yourself - THEY HURT LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER. And for me, it wasn't during the actual shot itself (likely because I wasn't paying much attention because I was in the process of trying to figure out who was going to be billing for my brace, which is DME and lettme just tell you, DME IS A NIGHTMARE, but that's another topic). My hand is also bruised. I am not happy. I dislike bruising. However, I do enjoy showing everybody my bruises, so I guess I don't dislike them all that much.

ANYHOW. While I elected the non-surgical option, after careful thinking, I scheduled myself with another appointment to discuss the surgical option in two weeks. I figure if cortisone shots are the temporary fix to my permanent situation that I've been lying to the world to for the last twelve years, I might as well just get the surgery over and done with an call it a day so when I'm 50 years old I'm not wanting to beat the fuck out of my 26 year old self for not doing it and still being sour over the cortisone.

All I can say is I'm sorry I lied, it wasn't my fault, I didn't know, and screw you cortisone, I hope you stub your toe.

P.S. Yes I am still alive, manbearpig did not get me.

But you can still name a holiday after me because that'd be great. K, thx.