I know there are some analogies or metaphors here somewhere. Maybe they'll reveal themselves.The cast came off my arm two days ago. What a relief to not carry that cast around, to not clunk against furniture and doorways, to not have to carefully tape a garbage bag over my arm to shower or bathe. No incision scar rbbing against plastic. I have all my fingers to use now. BUT, the elbow still doesn't work. This is not unusual after my arm has been in forced at a 90 degree angle for six weeks, but it is frustrating. i can straighten the elbow to almost 45 degrees. I work and work at bending the elbow more, so I could rub lotion on my other arm or blow dry my hair. It feels like I've made progress, but when I look at my elbow, I still see that 90 degree bend. I'm nowhere near scratching my nose, unless I try bending my head down to my hand (not easy!).
Here's where the metaphoric stuff comes in. I look at my arm, know how it used to work, how it should work, but it just doesn't for no apparent reason, even discounting the pain. It's kind of like when your phone or some appliance stops working. You either get someone to fix it, or throw it away and buy a new one. Not an option. I look at my hand longingly and will it to scratch my nose, to button my blouse. Not yet.
That discrepancy between knowing how my body should work, and how it's actually working is tough to digest. I do think of the people who have lost limbs or the use of their limbs permanentlt, and can't even think how I would deal with that and be able to make the physical and mental adaptations necessary to go on to having a happy, productive life. I suppose some never do.
I'm expecting to get past this. I make my tiny steps towards moving that arm, waiting the six weeks until my doctor's appointment, when the PA will suggest my next steps. I'm anxious, and suppose I will be for awhile.
Sounds a bit like other roadbocks in life. Doesn't it?
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