LIFE WITHOUT CASTS

Life without casts started with a sense of anticipation and adventure, but only a few hours into it I began to feel the deflation of the elated excitement. Uh. I had arms but I was afraid to use them. I was afraid to have anyone touch them. I was afraid to bump them. It was the weirdest feeling. It almost felt like they were not a part of my body, but some new and foreign glass like objects I was carrying around. Besides that – I could hardly move the wrists and had not much strength in the palm and the fingers either. My right hand was a little stronger then the left, however, I could not even straighten the right wrist let alone extend it back. My left thumb could hardly move and half of the fingers on the left hand I could not even straighten let alone draw into a fist. Neither hand could do the later. And the skin of the top of my arms, where the breaks had been was so sensitive, that washing my hands under warm water felt like scalding. I could not touch the top of my arms without feeling like I was rubbing my skin right off. My hyper sensitive skin reacted to any little touch and movement. I kept my arms in long sleeves and kept tying the splints back on much more then I needed to. I slept with the splints on, because I was afraid to crush my own arms at night. I don’t know what happened to the long and heartfelt wish to sleep without the hard casts. It was just too frightening a prospect.

On top of the challenges of new and improved me, I also had to deal with a sudden virus I managed to catch, despite the fact that I had hardly gone out or seen anyone. I had the whole package – the sore throat, the congestion, the headache, the earache, the cough… So, my handful of supplements with my meals doubled. I hardly needed any food after all those vitamins and minerals.

Recovery was slow, both from the stiff wrists as well as the cold. I was on a mission to find a hand specialist to do physiotherapy with, but was in for a real surprise. It’s next to impossible. I should have put myself on a waiting list the day the accident happened. Ha! The physiotherapy challenge was an eye opening experience and a real learning curve. There are private clinics and hospital clinics, clinics that are free and clinics that cost nearly a 100$ an hour, strict physiotherapy and combined with occupational therapy, sports therapy and hand therapy. And even the stuff that is OHIP covered has all these hidden fees for everything. I soon learned to carry bundles of cash with me everywhere. It’s a crazy world out there. They really should have courses that train people in the lingo and tell them how best to set these things up. I’d hate to be a new immigrant with a language barrier or an elderly person and have to be stuck in this system.

Well, after nearly a week of phone calls I ended up back at St. Mikes with an angel, Ross, who is also a specialist in mild torture tactics and does it with a smile and gives you a shoulder to cry on. She’s wonderful and also extremely tough. She’s my kind of a therapist. Especially once she got me the Tylenol 3’s to help with the pain. Ha! Yup, we’re back to narcotics. I’ve been in therapy with her and an OT every single day now for two and a half to three hours a day. I’m in pain almost all the time, because it seems like that’s the only way these hands will ever move again. It’s draining physically and emotionally hard, too. But I am seeing progress. Slow progress, but progress regardless.

I will try and transfer to a private clinic near my house coming week, because getting to St. Mikes is a challenge. I’m hoping that the insurance will cover the private clinic. I think they are supposed to. We have a wonderful lawyer who is helping us with that whole can of worms. Insurance, I mean. I’m so thankful and blessed to have had friends, who had friends, who had friends… I’ve ended up with a great lawyer through Rita B. and had help in many other ways from other friends. I thank the heavens for all of you out there every single day!!!

So long for now…
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