Previously on No Laughing Matter Living with Depression: A klutz aka me attempted to start a new exercise regime with the addition of bicycling when the driver (aka me) lost control and fell hand first on the concrete. We now bring you back to the program already in progress.
I’m officially the “Mummy Woman”. It’s funny how one broken bone in the hand requires so much wrapping. My hand looks like a Christmas gift wrapped up in a bow. Today, I went to see the orthopedic surgeon for an exam and a cast. Since it’s been way more than 20 years since I suffered a broken bone, I can’t remember the last time that I saw one.
When I arrived, my dad helped me fill out the paperwork. Some offices will do their paperwork on the computers, but not this one. We had to fill out an entire book of papers. Standard questions such as: how the incident occurred, your medical history, office policies and etc. It really upset me when I had to sign my name away, with my left hand. When I signed it, it was worse than chicken scratch. It looked like I had a stroke or got the crap scared out of me.
Then in the exam room, the surgeon took off my splint from Urgent Care and my hand looked like I had either killed someone or blew the biggest bubble known to man. When he saw my hand and the x-ray he said to me: “How did this happen? I usually see patients with injuries like this when they box or hit the wall.” I said: “The wall that I hit was concrete. I fell off my bike and crashed landed on the concrete hand first.” He said: “Ouch.” A little, not too much.
We took more x-rays to see if they was more damage and there wasn’t. I grimaced in pain when he examined the broken hand. He asked where does it hurt the most. You know how they ask you to rate your pain? During the exam, it hurt like a 8 or 9. My mother always says that her pains are a 10. Even when it’s just a minor sprain, she’s a weakling. When he got towards my right pinky area, I cursed a little. Pain is right there radiating from my pinky to base of the metacarpal bone. He told me to try making a fist or moving your injured hand and I couldn’t do it without grimacing or flinching a little. But he needed to know the extent of the damage.
After the x-rays and the exam, he gave me two options: surgery or cast. He told me that surgery would include pins into the area that’s broken and once that is healed, then you get casted. But in my case, surgery would be an option only if the injury was more serious. It’s not. So, I got a new temporary splint and get the official cast on Monday morning. Lovely. In the meantime, I’m on restricted duty. No right hand usage, no lifting anything heavier than a coffee cup and don’t further injure yourself. After that, I called my boss and told him the news. I told him that I’m returning on Friday with limitations. He said that was more than OK. Your wellness is the most important thing.
When I headed towards the cast room, I asked the nurse if they had any sports related casts. They didn’t. It was all plain colored casts. Oh darn. Their most requested casts are yellow and camouflage. Camo is fine, but yellow???? Not my cup of tea. The nice nurse putting my temporary splint on said that I’m quite brave. She’s never broken anything before. She had an elderly patient of 98 that broke their very first bone. I was shocked. In my 35 years, I have suffered a compound fracture in my left arm, I broke my left patella, broken toes before. And now this. Not to mention, way too many sprains. It’s funny concrete must not like me because I’ve gotten hurt a lot by concrete.
When I broke my patella, I fell on ice-covered concrete. It was like: Concrete 1, Jen 0. Now the score is higher. Accidents will happen that are out of your control. My depression still has been pretty good considering the injury. Last time that I got hurt, I went into shock and my mood decreased really fast. I really miss being mobile and the usage of both hands. It’s true when they say: “That you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.” I’ve had to make a lot of adjustments in the past few days. Learning how to be left-handed isn’t easy. Eating left-handed is getting a little easier. Actually cutting meat isn’t something that I want to try. I cut a good portion of my long hair off because it’s more manageable now and takes less time out of my day. Taking baths are still not fun. Having to rely on help has been something that I have to do. I can’t give my dogs their baths one-handed. I usually place them in the sink and hold them with one hand while bathing them. Not this time. Thankfully, a helper did this for me. As far as driving, that’s not a big deal. Same thing with shopping. Tying my shoes? That requires some help. Same thing as wearing an apron for work. Help please. My co-workers are all concerned and want to see me back. They will on Friday. I get to delegate and take care of myself.