My journey as a long distance runner who started the sport later in life.
I haven’t said much on this blog of late because there hasn’t been that much to say. The second opinion doctor said that physiotherapy was pointless until more surgery was undertaken, and so I quit physiotherapy. I took the required steps to secure a surgery appointment and I now have a date to look forward to in the next few weeks. This specialist has assured me that he can make my hand function better than it does right now, and I hope he is right and not just a really great salesman. I did ask him what he would do if during tenolysis a tendon was ruptured, and he shrugged confidently and said, “Well then I fix it,” as though I was super silly to even pose it as an issue.
Due to the lack of physiotherapy my three fingers are the stiffest they have ever been, and they are frozen in a claw-like position that happens to be a symbol for a rude Mexican swear word if I turn it sideways and try to make the OK symbol with my two semi-functional digits. I suppose I should stop doing that.
The index finger continues with its odd lump on the second joint, coupled with stiffness and a reduced range of motion. It has been suggested to me by unnamed sources that the force of the impact (because I fell on it too) was enough to damage the joint capsule, and it probably was, but no doctor cares about that finger. I guess it is strictly a physiotherapist’s concern. Because it is the only working opposable digit I use it all the time, and so it stays limber enough. From what I’ve read, a joint capsule injury may never get back to 100%.
When my fingers are bumped by accident, which the pinky always is because it sticks out so far from all the rest, it makes my abused digit scream in pain and throb for a day or two thereafter. It makes me rethink solitary walks in a rural location (what if a loose dog jumps on me and bumps it?), it makes me navigate crowded spaces with care (holiday shopping at the mall is out, as it always has been), and in general it has me feeling vulnerable and unable to defend myself. It’s not a feeling I enjoy, but I am managing to stay positive and continue with my running routine in spite of it.
One thing is definitely certain: I am relieved that I no longer have to drive to that ridiculously distant (both geographically and emotionally) physiotherapy clinic any more, nor ever again. This surgeon wants me attending PT at his associated PT clinic, but he did agree to let me go to the PT clinic that’s even closer to my neighborhood once the methods are understood by my attendance once weekly at his PT clinic. That seems rather reasonable, doesn’t it?