† Victor & Tanith Blackheart

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April 3rd. I work as a laundry attendant for a hotel where I live, right? I take all the dirty linens and put clean ones in the rooms that need em, do the laundry, fold, clean everything that isn’t a room. I broke my foot last summer on a door, so I already know I just have straight up bad luck and I’m extra careful so I don’t end up breaking anything else.
I was folding a sheet on Wednesday, around 3 pm. End of shift, the room attendants are coming down to stock their carts, myself and the Head Housekeeper are folding the last of the sheets and another room attendant is behind me doing her thing.
I get two folds into this sheet, queen sheet, and…I feel this god awful snap, pull, then another snap. I immediately pull my hand from the sheet and drop it like a fucking hot potato like “What the hell is that!?” and my hand proceeds to lock my thumb, index and middle finger into a fist. Ring and pinky I can move. The three of us look at my hand like “well now you’ve done it”
I get a doctors appointment for the next day, I wake up and my hands sore, achy, can’t really push or pull with it, and I work until the appointment. My doctor tells me after doing a bunch of little feel/strength/push/pull tests that I have PULLED A MUSCLE. AND I HAVE NERVE DAMAGE. From folding a sheet.
Repetitive movement injuries, guys. They’re serious. They’re stupid. I’m taking a lot of pain killers just to make sure it doesn’t swell horribly and that I can move my fingers. And I’m really dopey.
I’m not allowed to fold any sheets or bath towels. Not allowed to pick anything heavy up. Not even allowed to mop because that’s stressing the muscle. What can I do? The laundry and make beds, maybe dusting. Cleaning windows. Yay. So fun.