Bionics!

I’m not gonna lie. I am sometimes grateful for an excuse NOT to run. But this might be overdoing it.

That thing that looks like a parasite is a plate with what seems to be 9 screws. It’s keeping my arm together.

It’s been two weeks since this operation and 18 days since the break. The doctor told me today that it was just a mess inside there. More breakage then they thought, but things look good now. Still not allowed to do much but I can keep the sling off more. Still can’t use my right hand to start the car, wipe my ass, or do much, but if I plant my body just right, I can type with both hands now! Yippee!! It’s the little things.

My new scar.

I think my “outsides” look just as odd as my insides. I mistakenly showed a friend my arm yesterday and her knees nearly buckled. Today, though, I wore a tank top because I had to see the doctor, so no sense wearing too much I would need to take off. That just takes too much time nowadays! I found people sneaking glances at the scar, and a sweet little girl asking her mom what happened to me, and why not? I’m her librarian and I didn’t look like that a few weeks ago, so what the heck? I felt a little freakish at times today, but I’ve always told my son to fly his freak flag high, so why shouldn’t I?

I was pretty despondent yesterday–just everything taking too long to do, arm hurting, brain still reeling and making dumb mistakes at work. But today I have a little more hope. I still won’t be able to do a lot on my upcoming vacation–no major hikes and even no swimming (can only get the scar wet with water and soap)–and I still won’t be able to wear a regular bra for some time or wash my hair with two hands, but there’s hope that physical therapy MAY begin in three weeks. I know it will be tough and frustrating, but right now, I am SO ready to get to work.

So here’s to a good fight and a future where bionics are the norm!

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Interdependence

On this July 4th, I am longing for some independence.

I’m not here to “complain” about all the freedoms and advantages I have as a white, educated, lower middle-class woman. I am well aware I have a shitload of them. I am also currently hyper-aware of the advantages I have (or will have again) as an able-bodied person.

Many of you know that I broke my arm 11 days ago. It was just a freak accident while goofing off with my son and landing “just wrong.” It’s been a week since I had surgery and I now sport a plate and a bunch of screws inside of my body, just below my shoulder. I really wish they could have just inserted bionics, because seriously! That would totally be worth the pain if I could lift a car with my right arm or throw a baseball 2 miles. But apparently I’m no Jaime Sommers and this isn’t a cool 1970s television show. It’s just my real life in 2019. Ain’t that a pisser?

When I first broke my arm (and yes, it’s my right and I’m right-handed), the pain was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I rarely stopped screaming or crying those first few hours. My brother’s partner drove my boy and I to the ER. Every bit of movement was excruciating. Meds helped very little but some at least relaxed me. Once I was somewhat stabilized, I became horribly depressed. How would I do anything?!? (My husband was out of state when all of this happened, too.) My beautiful sister drove over an hour just to take my damn bra off me and give me a sponge bath, and her husband made us dinner. My son did anything and everything I asked him to, but I needed to do some things for myself. Yet every damned thing was just so fucking difficult. Go brush your teeth with your non-dominant hand and tell me how it goes. NO! WAIT! Go wipe your ass with your non-dominant hand. THAT, my friends, is just friggin’ weird.

Now that I’ve had surgery and my husband is home to help the kid and myself, I’m not quite as depressed or disheartened as I was. I’m still very frustrated with not being able to do certain things like put my bra on by myself, do dishes, wear pants with buttons or zippers, or even sleep in my own bed. And keeping my pain level manageable still isn’t easy, especially at work. BUT, even with all of my frustrations and annoyances, I am incredibly lucky to have family and friends lending a hand to help me, and a staff at work who have my back in more ways than one. As independent (and stubborn) as I am, I know that if we all were a little more interdependent or even just admitted that we needed one another, we could live in a truly incredible world.

So lend a hand if you can to someone that needs it. And if you’re in my vicinity, I’ll be happy to borrow your right hand, arm and shoulder.

Let’s take care of each other. ❤