My journey as a long distance runner who started the sport later in life.
Six weeks ago today I was in my hospital’s surgical recovery room for the second time. They have this trick where they make you wait eons to leave due to the insurance company’s processing time. I think it is strategic: you can’t leave until they say so and that means they can decide if you are really capable of walking out of there. Actually, you may not walk: hospital policy calls for a wheel chair, even if only three fingers on your non-dominant hand are what trouble you.
BELOW: A visual comparison of six-weeks post-op for both surgeries.
Today my hand is more or less the same as it was last week and the week before, at least to me. Oh sure, the scars have lessened and the gross blood blisters are gone, but the functionality seems similar. People who examine it, massage it, and put it through passive range of motion exercises claim it is getting better, but they sure are baby steps. It must be a baby amoeba or whatever the smallest thing with legs might be. An ant? No, definitely a mite of some kind. The steps are baby mite steps. However, I will be the first to admit that the pain is much better. That is to say, there is less pain than there ever has been since January 18. Therapeutic ultrasound is magical stuff.
I have caught myself using the fingers ever so slightly once and a while when I am not thinking about it. It is mostly the middle finger that gets involved (haha, not like that) as a supporting actor to the index finger’s lead. I can sometimes use it for a bit more leverage, but I remain cognizant of the fact that undue pressure on it before it is ready could damage it. I am not really sure if anything regular I could do to it would really damage it, but I want to remain careful to protect that which I have gained.
Six weeks from now will be July 29 if I have counted right. By that time I will have had ten more days of Mexican PT and I will have had a whole month of Canadian PT. I am eager to see if there are any major differences in the approach to PT between the two countries, though I suspect that good PT practices are essentially the same everywhere. I will also enjoy speaking about therapy in English. I might understand more of what my part in rehabilitation can be if someone explains it to me in my native tongue.
So far in Mexico and on holidays my favorite part of each day is my PT session. It is a time for someone to look after me, which is a rare thing when one lives far away from family. Someone else more knowledgeable than I takes care of my pain so I don’t have to, and for just a little while after the appointment my ranges of motion are at their best. Walking home from the appointment I almost feel like I have a normal hand again, and it’s the best feeling ever.