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Machismo

January 7, 2016 by candicebeckwith Leave a Comment

One warm Christmas Eve in New Mexico a certain 28-year-old man invited a certain 14-year-old boy to punch him in the arm as hard as he could. Boy, attempting to impress his uncle, the aforementioned man, punched him hard, causing slight pain to the man and extreme pain to the boy. The next morning, that boy showed his swollen, painful hand to a not-very-sympathetic mother, who dismissed it as a “jammed finger”.  Ten days later, the neglectful mother brings the injured boy into the doctor only to find out that what she hoped was a jammed finger was really a broken hand and that through her neglect the small piece of bone that broke has now moved. After talk of pins and surgery the doctor referred the mother and son to a specialist. The mother, getting her just deserts, had to worry, and panic all day until the afternoon appointment where the specialist reassured both boy and mother, and simply put a cast on the poor boy’s hand. No surgery, no pins, no guilt trip. Both mother and son appreciated the cool name of the fracture, known as a Boxer’s Fracture or Brawler’s Break. Apparently it’s original name was the boxer’s break, but since most boxers know how to punch without breaking their hands, it was given a more appropriate name, “Brawler’s Break” for those dummies that get in street fights and can’t punch without hurting themselves. In two weeks lucky boy gets his cast off. In four, he can resume normal usage. Until then he is grateful that he is excused from practicing his viola and having to use good penmanship in school (it’s his right hand).

Sam, the hero of the story, said after his morning appointment, “It has such a cool name. Boxer’s Break? It sounds like a pair of underwear!” And lastly, said the boy who, for ten days lived with and even played basketball with a broken hand, “Now that I know it’s broken it hurts more!” Go figure…

Filed Under: Home & Family

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Who Am I?

I am Candice, mother of four, wife of a principal. We live a full life. A life brimming with family, friends, faith, food, books, travel, gardens, housework, carpools, music, dance and sports. We live in an old home in a small town at the edge of the majestic Lone Peak Wilderness. I drive a minivan. I read in the shower. I show my love by feeding people and sharing what makes me happy...

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