A few days ago I fell down my basement stairs (bedumbedumbedumbump - Hey Dad! that was funny!) and it looks like I cracked a rib. This is not fun, at all.
I asked the doctor if I could 'swim when I felt up to it' and he looked at me like I was crazy - apparantly he feels I could poke a re-cracked rib into my lungs, or something. It is the case that the only time I think I can swim is after I take my Vicodin (and then, fortunately, I fall asleep) but this does seem like an unlikely event to make me stay out of the water for a month or more.
Anyway, is there any experience or doctorly advice for me? I really don't see how I can swim right now - even if I float and kick, the wall seems like Mt. Capitan, but what about later?
Life is so dull, now, and kind of fuzzy . . .
Phil,
I feel your pain. I have cracked ribs on four separate occasions in the past 7 years. Once in the Boundary Waters in a mishap involving Canadian Club; once jetskiing to Siberia for National Geographic Adventure; once crashing on a snowbike for the same magazine, and once--the most painful if least dramatic--beaching myself on the concrete side of a pool. Moving around on a bed, for some reason, is one of the most painful maneuvers--probably because the intercostal muscles start yanking on the bones, etc. Swimming is not too far behind in the pain inducement department. Oh--I forgot coughing and sneezing. Avoid these at all costs!
Anyhow, the good news is that most of these rib injuries will go away in about 6-8 weeks. The last time I cracked one, I continued to swim through the pain, using lots of ibuprofen, etc. But after two weeks, I felt like it was getting worse so I took a couple weeks off.
My doctor told me that there's nothing you can really do to hasten--or retard, for that matter--the healing process. He actually checked me out to make sure no lung puncturing was imminent, and thusly assured, told me it was okay to swim if I could tolerate the pain. I couldn't, so ultimately I diidn't. I think this would be your best advice: don't swim if it really hurts.
One last note: it does seem like it takes forever for the pain of a rib crack to go away. I can't even remember it actually going away, but obviously it did, despite the absense of any clear demarcation "pain, no pain" point. Be patient! One day next spring you will wake up and have trouble remembering you even have ribs. And know until then you have the total sympathy of someone who's been there.
Phil,
I feel your pain. I have cracked ribs on four separate occasions in the past 7 years. Once in the Boundary Waters in a mishap involving Canadian Club; once jetskiing to Siberia for National Geographic Adventure; once crashing on a snowbike for the same magazine, and once--the most painful if least dramatic--beaching myself on the concrete side of a pool. Moving around on a bed, for some reason, is one of the most painful maneuvers--probably because the intercostal muscles start yanking on the bones, etc. Swimming is not too far behind in the pain inducement department. Oh--I forgot coughing and sneezing. Avoid these at all costs!
Anyhow, the good news is that most of these rib injuries will go away in about 6-8 weeks. The last time I cracked one, I continued to swim through the pain, using lots of ibuprofen, etc. But after two weeks, I felt like it was getting worse so I took a couple weeks off.
My doctor told me that there's nothing you can really do to hasten--or retard, for that matter--the healing process. He actually checked me out to make sure no lung puncturing was imminent, and thusly assured, told me it was okay to swim if I could tolerate the pain. I couldn't, so ultimately I diidn't. I think this would be your best advice: don't swim if it really hurts.
One last note: it does seem like it takes forever for the pain of a rib crack to go away. I can't even remember it actually going away, but obviously it did, despite the absense of any clear demarcation "pain, no pain" point. Be patient! One day next spring you will wake up and have trouble remembering you even have ribs. And know until then you have the total sympathy of someone who's been there.