The Case Against Exercise and Health Care or Why I'm Not A Doctor

Remember the scene in the movie “Stripes” when Bill Murray does like five pushups and collapses and says, “I gotta get in shape”? I have been saying that for years and have never done anything about it. Well, I think it may be too late for me.
A typical Friday night at home, 9:30, I’m in bed trying to fall asleep. My niece calls and asks if I want to go bowling with her and her Fiancé. I figure, what the hell, I never get out, and agree to meet them at the local bowlorama. I haven’t bowled in a number of years and I’ve always liked it. Of course the mandatory beer that goes with it doesn’t hurt.

I always have a hard time getting a ball that works for me when I go. I’m a relatively wimpy guy and need a ball on the lighter side. The problem with that is that the lighter balls are for smaller people and the finger holes are always too small. I usually end up with a ball that’s too heavy with finger holes that are too big and I usually get a blister or callus on my thumb or finger. In no sense can I be considered a good bowler, probably around a 120 average or so and, like I said before, I don’t bowl very often. Anyway, I went up and met them and Mike and I started bowling while Jodie was playing some trivia game.

Anyway, we’re drinking beer and having a good time and all is going well. The callus is starting to form on my thumb but I’m ok with it as I was getting pretty drunk and I just figured if it got too bad I’d just put a bandage on it in when I got home. Before our second game a number of Mike’s friends had joined us and we were all laughing and having a good time while we were all making fun of each other’s styles. It was fun.

So it’s around this time that you may be asking yourself why I am telling this little story. Well if you know me at all you know that something more must have happened. It did. Around the eighth frame of the second game I was up and went to throw my first ball of the frame. As the ball left my hand I could hear the cracking of bones and a pain in my finger that, if I hadn’t been drunk, would have literally made me scream. I thought that there was little doubt that I had broken it. Again, thanks to the beer, I continued to bowl, though I couldn’t put my fingers in the holes and just had to roll it down and hope for the best. I put my finger in ice for the rest of the night and taped it up and took some Advil when I got home.

Now, let’s review. I broke my finger while bowling. What the hell is that all about? I broke my finger while bowling? Hell, there’s a debate about whether it’s even a sport or not. I broke my finger while bowling! Who does this kind of crap happen to? Me, of course. To me this just seems like the perfect reason to never get off the couch. It always happens when I do any kind of physical activity, I get hurt. This one seems worse than normal though. I mean c’mon. I was bowling for Pete’s sake.

The above was the original end to the story. I went to a comedy show in Detroit last night and on the way home my finger was just throbbing so I went to urgent care. When I saw the Doctor he said he didn’t think my finger was broken but that there was a good possibility that I had torn the tendons near the knuckle. He said to continue the Advil and was getting ready to put one of those finger splints on when I asked him a question. I asked him how much one of those splints costs? He told me not to worry about it as it was probably covered under my insurance. I said I understood that but I could get the same thing at the local supermarket. He told me the splint probably ran around $45.00. I told him I would get it myself and said thanks.

I ended up getting the splint for under $5.00 and I guess that says something about why we need major reform in the way health insurance is run. Now, here’s the scary part. When I got in the car from buying the splint I opened it up and put it on. I started driving over to my sister’s house to drop off a few things I got for her and couldn’t understand how the pain had not subsided at all. I looked down and noticed that I had put the splint on the wrong finger. Maybe I should have let the insurance pay for it.