The Last Arm Post (No Promises!)

When I first had surgery, Paul was convinced that we didn’t need any meals so we turned them all down.  But it became frustrating when I had to count on a young man to do simple things like open cans (I can’t operate a manual can-opener one handed, can you?), so I relented.  And we were blessed with dinners just when I needed it the most.

Meanwhile, I continued trying to straighten my arm. . .

I could have sworn that it was pretty straight.  Of course my perspective is not the same as everyone else’s.  I could not believe how hard it was and how worried I was that I would reinjure my arm (just by straightening it.)

I had developed a love/hate relationship with my splint.  It provided protection and a sense of safety, but I was so sick of it.  At the same time, I was completely terrified of the doctor setting me free.. . .

And he did. . .

He told me that I could use the splint if I felt I needed to (and I was certain that I would.)  But I never did put it on again!

Right after the appointment I did an errand and then stopped by cub scout day camp.  That was not the best choice. . .once I got home, I found out that I had A LOT of dead skin, most of which I could not see, BUT everyone else could.  It was quite unappealing.  I probably gave a few kids nightmares

I continued to work on straightening my arm but I plateaued.  (Whatever fool told me that I would be back to playing tennis within three months was misinformed. . . and I was equally foolish to believe it!)

On my follow up appointment . .

the doctor and I decided I was better off with physical therapy.

So off I went and I worked hard.  I really wanted to progress and to be able to do all the things I wanted to do without restrictions.  I also took good care of my scar (no scaring little kids again!)

A couple days before my last physical therapy appointment, someone shook my hand quite vigorously (really?) and caused a setback.  I was so disappointed and frustrated that something so commonplace (not the vigorous part) could affect me adversely.  So, if I am hesitant to shake your hand, don’t take it personally!

I am sure I will intersperse my recovery in future posts, but my arm (at this point) is no longer the main focus of my life.