The Lycra Ligament and Muscle Brigade has been summoned into service to get my arm, wrist, and hand back into shape.
These tiny fierce trainers dress in sleek black Lycra body suits and with calm upbeat voices instruct me in tendon gliding, wrist bending down and back, palm turning, thumb circling, touching the tip of my thumb to the tip of each finger.
Karen, the kind PT at the Hand Physical Therapy Center of Marin, steps me through an exercise routine, taking measurements of my shocking limitations. Who knew all the things a second hand does until it doesn’t. Buttoning, wiping, twisting, opening, chopping, typing, texting, combing out tangles, tying — coming to grips (or a lack there of) with this disability continues to challenge me.
I take my physical abilities and high activity level as a given; this is the most limited I have been from an injury, ever. And the pain is exquisite. Shattering a bone and recovering from surgery has taken my mind off the recent death of my mom. I thought I would be in an altered state, grieving, but not coaxing a dead limb back to life. I had no idea.
I assure Karen that I will take the PT workout seriously though I undermine my credibility when I tell her about the Bone Menders and describe my new partners from the Brigade.
These tiny fierce trainers dress in sleek black Lycra body suits and with calm upbeat voices instruct me in tendon gliding, wrist bending down and back, palm turning, thumb circling, touching the tip of my thumb to the tip of each finger.
Karen, the kind PT at the Hand Physical Therapy Center of Marin, steps me through an exercise routine, taking measurements of my shocking limitations. Who knew all the things a second hand does until it doesn’t. Buttoning, wiping, twisting, opening, chopping, typing, texting, combing out tangles, tying — coming to grips (or a lack there of) with this disability continues to challenge me.
I take my physical abilities and high activity level as a given; this is the most limited I have been from an injury, ever. And the pain is exquisite. Shattering a bone and recovering from surgery has taken my mind off the recent death of my mom. I thought I would be in an altered state, grieving, but not coaxing a dead limb back to life. I had no idea.
I assure Karen that I will take the PT workout seriously though I undermine my credibility when I tell her about the Bone Menders and describe my new partners from the Brigade.
Dr. Hillary Redlln, at our post surgical appointment, talked me through my latest x-ray showing me the titanium plate now embedded in my arm where my radial wrist bone once lived. The spiderlike metal plate gIves me the heebie jeebies and it didn't help matters to glimpse the Frankenstein-esque stitches on my inner wrist.
But Dr. Hillary reported that the Bone Menders had been doing a great job; she gave me a removable black splint, and encouraged me to line up other resources to join my healing team.
In addition to scheduling Hand PT sessions twice a week for the next month, I called Marie Ongaro, my acupuncturist, and she saw me today, summoning the needle bearers and energy movers to do their eastern Magic on my injury.
There’s a lot of work to be done. Swollen and stiff, aching deeply especially at nighttime, this right hand does not feel connected to my body. I am trying to accept this temporary dysfunction, knowing that if listen to my inner helpers and outer healers, do my exercises and take my vitamins and bone supplements, it will in six weeks or so be better.
But the day-to-day progress, and the baseline from where I am starting this rehab give me pause. I can’t make a fist, turn my palms to the sky, or bear any weight on the wrist. When the PT told me not to lift anything heavier than a piece of paper, I looked at her like she was nuts.
This weekend as I watched the formidable 37-year-old Serena Williams lose to a Canadian 17-year-old in the finals of the US Open, I thought about recovery and rehab. Serena, with a number of health challenges, including coming back after almost dying giving birth, continues to dominate her world. But the amount of work this woman has put in to recondition her body to play at the top of her game is just extraordinary.
But Dr. Hillary reported that the Bone Menders had been doing a great job; she gave me a removable black splint, and encouraged me to line up other resources to join my healing team.
In addition to scheduling Hand PT sessions twice a week for the next month, I called Marie Ongaro, my acupuncturist, and she saw me today, summoning the needle bearers and energy movers to do their eastern Magic on my injury.
There’s a lot of work to be done. Swollen and stiff, aching deeply especially at nighttime, this right hand does not feel connected to my body. I am trying to accept this temporary dysfunction, knowing that if listen to my inner helpers and outer healers, do my exercises and take my vitamins and bone supplements, it will in six weeks or so be better.
But the day-to-day progress, and the baseline from where I am starting this rehab give me pause. I can’t make a fist, turn my palms to the sky, or bear any weight on the wrist. When the PT told me not to lift anything heavier than a piece of paper, I looked at her like she was nuts.
This weekend as I watched the formidable 37-year-old Serena Williams lose to a Canadian 17-year-old in the finals of the US Open, I thought about recovery and rehab. Serena, with a number of health challenges, including coming back after almost dying giving birth, continues to dominate her world. But the amount of work this woman has put in to recondition her body to play at the top of her game is just extraordinary.
To be sure I am motivated to get my right arm, wrist, and hand back in good working condition so that I can return to two handed keyboarding, cooking, and of course playing Pickleball. I am humbled in the presence of the Lycra Ligament and Muscle Brigade, the Bone Menders, and the Needle Bearers and Energy Movers, as well as my team of female medical professionals.
And to quote the Sia song, Titanium:
I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose
Fire away, fire away
Ricochet, you take your aim
Fire away, fire away
You shoot me down but I won't fall
I am titanium
You shoot me down but I won't fall
I am titanium
I am titanium
That's a a big set of titanium in there, hope those bone menders are working around the clock!
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