My husband came home from Judo this morning with a broken hand. When he did a throw on someone, they landed right on top of his fist, and he said he heard it snap. And, being the compassionate wife that I am, my first response was, "Can you still work?" (Hey, he wasn't crying, and some one's gotta bring home the bacon to pay for my pricey new floors!) He said "yes."
And, because I've got all the confidence in the world that he is a tough -as -nails-manly-man, I've got him downstairs right now installing my wood floors. No sense in putting that off just for a little broken hand, I say.