Up till now I had never broken a bone - not once in 55 years. It was Jan 14 in Sylacauga, AL (30 mi. east of Birmingham.) Peggy and I were picking up a load of reject engine blocks from ‘Teksid.’ (They make cast aluminum engine blocks with steel sleeves for the pistons.) We had been in & out of this same place several times in the past few weeks. It is a good load - pays well, but it is a pain in the tush to drop the in-coming empty trailer on the scale, hook up; drop same trailer in back of the plant; pick up the loaded one, unhook from it; move the empty into place, drop it and hook up again to the loaded one… This company does not have its own tractor for moving trailers around, so we have to do it. We have done that about ten times in the past few weeks, so we’re getting good at it. To tarp this load, one has to climb around on top of 900 engine blocks to level them out. When they are dumped in by forklift, there are peaks and valleys. I did the leveling by hand while Peggy did other stuff on the ground. Those blocks are rather unstable to walk on. They each weigh about 50-80 lbs, depending on size. I had to lift some of them and heave them into the valleys. On Jan. 14, the trailer we took out of there was slightly narrower and shallower all the other trailers we’d pulled. So the load was piled higher than usual so as not to sacrifice too much weight. It was harder than on previous trips to get the blocks below the level of top of the trailer so as to swing the bows in so as to roll the tarp across to protect the load. Well, that day, Jan. 14 at 2:30 p.m., I had been working hard and long on this puzzle atop the load of 900 engine blocks, when suddenly my left hand middle finger-nail got smashed between two of them. The tip of my finger immediately was swollen and turgid. (But I didn’t say any bad words!) I let the pain settle down a bit and finished my job so as to be able to pull the tarp over the load. Once we were done, I decided I’d better have this injury looked at. Using our handy laptop with Sprint card, after a couple phone calls, we figured out where to go - Coosa Valley Hospital E.R.
Peggy parked at Auto Zone, very near the hospital. (She was on a mission to solve a truck problem.) A nice guy from Auto Zone drove me the 4 blocks to the hospital. It was about 5:30 - 3 hours after impact, by the time I was actually on the examining table talking with the wise, white-haired, large, black doctor. I liked him! He showed me the X-ray. The small bone under the nail was broken. It never was painful, only sensitive to touch and swollen. The Doc drilled a hole in my finger nail for ‘blood-letting,’ which saved the nail from falling off and having to grow a new one. He prescribed a pain-killer and an antibiotic, neither of which I had filled - there was no pain! The nurse wrapped my finger in a splint. After one day I quit wearing it. No pain! I just have to avoid that finger and be very careful not to bump it. Now 2 weeks later, it is mending well. I did go to our regular clinic last Monday when we were home. That doc gave me a different, shorter splint, which I wore one day and quit also. I have come to the conclusion that my finger is mending well, so I’m not going back for any more useless check-ups. It’s fine!
The biggest problem is that I cannot fiddle till the finger is healed. The estimate I was given was 4-6 weeks. Today I feel the healing is almost to the point where the finger tip will withstand a little pressure. Now is the first time since the injury that I have used that finger for typing! So I’m sure I’ll be ready to caress the fingerboard in another week or so. This trip is the first time I have not brought my violin along on the truck - 2 weeks with no fiddle. The circumstances do provide cause for me to evaluate my priorities. I have not stopped dreaming and planning what to do next with my music - pieces to learn, plans to get back to teaching - I think these thoughts a lot. But I am not as obsessed with violin as I have been in the past. It has taken its proper place in my life, very important, but not most important. I believe God has a plan for my life. This unlikely and somewhat hazardous job we’re doing is allowing us tons of time together and is providing the means for us to fulfill some of our big dreams, but that’s another subject… In brief, this spring we will get our house on Lake of Egypt ready to sell, so we can buy Peggy’s-brother-Larry’s farm - 6 miles from where we now live. Then we’ll have 50 acres to play with, and that is the focus of lots more dreams. I have never been busier than this past 3 years as a trucker. It feels excellent to be busy. I am mega-thankful to be married to Peggy who is a tireless ball of energy. She has changed the course of my life, and I love the path we’re on. I love being able to bring my music to the trucking world, all very spontaneously. If we are kept as busy as we like to be, there is little opportunity to fiddle. Fiddling must be done! It is a lovely gift to spread as an offering among my circle of influence. But it must be kept in perspective. Am I just showing off? Or does my music have power to encourage, inspire, instruct, heal…? After 46 years of striving to perfect my violin skills, I know how music can become too important, too closely entwined with the ego, competing with God for first place in one’s heart. I still have big dreams centering around music and the farm, and it’s becoming urgenter and urgenter to ‘Git ’er done,’ as some of my trucking buddies might put it.
