During the week, I needed to go back to A&E as my right wrist was starting to get really sore and bruised. Long story short, I have a broken wrist. More specifically, I have a broken scaphoid. Not ideal, and he put me straight into a plaster of Paris cast. Thankfully, it’s a crack at the distal end where the blood flows in, which means it’s more likely to heal quicker, and it’s also not broken badly enough to require surgery. My broken thumb is also not broken badly enough to need surgery, so a bonus on both points.
I returned the next day to change it to a fibreglass cast, initially having to deal with a medical person who verbally attacked me for having the audacity to turn up at hospital as instructed by her colleagues. I think she was mainly pissed off because I had been told to do something that wasn’t normal, and she assumed I was a friend of the doc who had seen me the day before. Odd. Once she realised I was just following orders, though, she transformed to being helpful.
So Wednesday was easily the low point so far for me, as up to that point, everything was continuing to get worse, and the thought of having both arms in casts isn’t appealing.
But on Thursday, things started to improve. First, I got a scan of my shoulder which suggested that recovery should be quicker than previously assumed, and I won’t need surgery. This is pretty cool – three areas where surgery were possibly going to be needed, and none of them do. Win. Then my shoulder started to feel less sore as I did the exercises as instructed by the physio. I’ve also taken my black splint off my left hand for a while to give my left hand some air, and my thumb is less sore and indeed starting to be vaguely capable of lifting light things in certain scenarios. And today, I can lift my left arm quite high. Therefore, I’m feeling slightly more hopeful and optomistic for the future. Hurrah!