I fell down the stairs at work and in order to stop a major face plant into the sidewalk I used my hands.
Unfortunately most of the force of the fall went up my arm and blew out the elbow.
So I went home to elevate it and do ice. I didn't think it was broken. I thought it was just pulled and strained. Either way I could tell from the pain that this was one of those 6+ week injuries--insert appropriate exclamatory swear word here--#$%^!!!
The next day I kept my schedule to go out of town with the family (see the bee journal (http://thebeejournal.blogspot.com/) for details) and when I returned I decided that it was best that I know for sure whether it was broken or not. That way if I used the arm I wouldn't make it worse.
A couple x-rays later and it was confirmed. Even the possibility of a need for surgery to fix it. For now it's a sling and Tylenol 3....
I have pretty big plans this spring and starting beekeeping next month is one of them.
Photo - Mom, Dad, cousin Ross and the dry high ground where the hives will go.
A bright spot in all of this is that I started on this journey to beekeeping alone. But I'm not alone any longer. Even before the arm incident my family were stepping in and taking interest in my new hobby. Dad has even attended bee meetings with me.
Best of all, yesterday he told my sister that "we" were keeping "our" hives on my cousin's property.
"We" sounds so much nicer than I.