My journey as a long distance runner who started the sport later in life.
It has been five weeks to the day since I fell and broke three fingers. I have been in daily physiotherapy sessions this past week, and the pain is still so excruciating that it’s hard to believe anything is ever going to change. My physiotherapist told me that daily sessions would help, but it has been a grind. I get home from work only to head back out and sometimes the drive to the clinic alone takes 35 minutes. The therapy itself is over an hour. I am basically returning home in time to sleep, and then I wake up and do it all again. It reminds me of the movie Groundhog Day, but without the guns and insanity.
I finally figured out how to trick the x-ray CD into letting me access the images on my computer and I sent them off to the surgeon. Hopefully he gets them and is able to tell me something meaningful during my next appointment. When I look at them I can’t help but think that my ring and pinky fingers might not ever be able to independently curl up into a fist again. Right now when I try to do this motion with my middle finger I get a response from all three joints, but when I try to do it with my ring finger only the first joint bends.
I really like my physiotherapist. We talk a lot, me practicing my Spanish, and I know that she has two daughters, aged four and five, and that she and I have the same birth year. Until she told me, I never would have guessed that we were the same age. She seems so much more mature than I feel. In any case, I know that she is doing a thorough and careful job of my rehabilitation, and if there is a possibility for my fingers to function normally again, she will find a way to get them there. I might be in pain a lot, but she will get the job done. Her opinion on my rate of improvement is that by the end of March it will be much better. I hope I can take the pain for that long.