OK, I gotta lay it straight (just this one time) and tell you that this thumb situation has been insanely stressful.  Like my previous blog, you really don't realize how for-granted you take a digit until you don't have use of it anymore.  It's made everything harder and more frustrating.  I'm the type of person to work at a lightning pace. Problem is, I still try to work at that same pace, and I can't.  Literally...I'm forced not to.  All this thumb does is ache because it strains from residual force from using the other four fingers on my hand.  It's like the black sheep of my right hand.  Striving for attention, while the other four play and do their best to ignore their runt of a family member.

Check out these gnarly pics of my surgery.  I had to snap a few pics before they put on my awesome black cast.  Sadly, no one has signed it yet.  I've got a silver sharpie for anyone who's willing!!

Yes, that's a METAL PIN protruding from my skin.  And Dr. Berdia yelled at me because I bent it a bit while in the soft cast.  That, again, would be residual strain from using the other fingers.  That pin extends through the inside of my thumb.  Yummy.

Oh, and you can click on any for a closer look...I know you're hungry now.

Of course, this wouldn't be a Houston blog about my thumb without out a little reflection on the pie of life that Little Jack Horner knows all too well.  Just wish I wouldn't keep pulling out plums.

They say every problem is solved over time.  Just how much time is required always depends on the type of problem you're faced with.  In terms of my thumb...which is totally gross under this cast as you've seen, it's going to be a period of a few months.  The cast is off on the 23rd of this month (and again, what an awesome black cast it is), but then I'm in a splint with physical therapy for a good chunk of time afterward.  I probably won't be 100% with my thumb until August.  Oh well, at least I know that it WILL be better and I have a timeframe with which to judge my progress.

Don't you wish all problems had a definitive timeframe in which you knew they were going to be resolved?  I have to revist my previous blog for a bit here because the Ski Trip Guy I wrote about before said something pretty defeating to me earlier today.  After stupidly sharing some of feelings to him and admitting that they were likely one-way, he said "it makes me uncomfortable to think that they are one-way, but the truth is that they are not returned with the passion and freeness that you give to me..."

Ouch.

I couldn't say it to him, but that really hurt to hear.  I can't blame him though.  I guess I've actually known it all along, deep down.  I mean, he's in a relationship...he's GOT a boyfriend...and he's happy.  Of course his feelings in return toward me wouldn't be the same.  But, that's just how I am.  I'm a passionate person that gives my all, especially if it's important to me.  Which he is.  Whether he wants to be or not.

Have you ever really (I mean REALLY) wanted something so bad that you'd beg to take off work, spend hundreds of dollars you didn't have, fly across the country by yourself and wait in line on the street with complete strangers for 30 hours just for a CHANCE you'd get it?

Ski guy clearly doesn't know how far I'll go for something that's important to me.  This next statement says it all:  I would stop watching The Price is Right for the rest of my life if it meant I could have one more chance to spend another night in his arms.

I don't care if that sounds crazy or creepy or whatever.  It's what I feel and I have to say it.  I hate that when I talk to him, I just continuously wonder.  Problem is, the only resolution here would be to stop talking to him altogether (as has been suggested by the two friends I've shared this with).  That's not something I can bring myself to do.  He's become too good of a friend.

I'm not disillusioned by pain killers, obsessed or dreaming outrageous situations here.  I'm also not desperate by any means.  I just know potential when I see it.  And I'm a persistent bitch.  However, I remain realistic about the situation and it's important that I say this:  First and foremost, I want him to be happy.  That's what I want for all my friends.  And the good news here is that he IS happy.  I don't want to do anything to change that.  Even if I believe that I could make him happier than he's ever been...it's not my place to choose.

He once said that he hopes a "quality guy" like me isn't a hot ticket "if/when" his current relationship ends.  But like most of us, we're willing to wait in line for the ticket to that can't-miss event.  Ski Guy is the car that I wish I had won on The Price is Right.  But, just like TPIR, the experience alone was well worth the trip and I'm still grateful for everything that's happened.

He also said he'd hate to think I was waiting for him.  And I'd be silly to do so.  However, I never expected to develop such a crush like this.  I've never had unresolved feelings like this for anybody.  Why do I like him so much?  His deep care and compassion exudes from every pore of his skin.  His handsome facade protects his true assets: his heart, soul and his undying loyalty to anyone he calls a friend.  He possesses an exceptional wit and whenever I get the chance to hang out with him, I feel like I'm empowered to save the world.  Plain and simple, he's entertaining, addictive and I can't get enough.  I'm a happier person just to be in his presence.  We've become friends fast and without question.

I don't know his boyfriend and while I can't assume anything, I do hope that his bf realizes just what kind of a catch he's made.  I hope that he respects and cares for him just as much as I do.  In the short time I've known Ski Guy, I know that he's one of the most amazing people I've ever met.  He deserves every bit of attention he gets and should never be second best to anyone.

Now, back to this bum thumb of mine...it's healing, slowly.  I can't wait to get this cast off and see it again.  It's going to be scarred...which, whether I like it or not, will always serve as a reminder of the great weekend that surrounded the injury.  Why the hell do I have to wear my heart on my sleeve all the time?  The stain is gonna be a bitch to get out.