I heard the bone break. I refused to believe it for about 24 hours. After all, I could move it a little without pain, so I thought it must not be broken, even though the swelling, bruising, and hand drooping sideways from the afflicted wrist seemed to beg for medical attention. Steve finally insisted we go to an urgent care center. Yes, it was broken and a cast was applied.
My greatest and most marvelous blessing in this entire ordeal was not having to endure pain. I was supposed to be in great pain from a broken bone, but I wasn’t. Not at the beginning nor at any time during the healing process did I experience pain. I praise the Lord for this. He bore my pain at Calvary.