Comfort at Home

My girls always seem to know when I’m not doing well. Recently, I had a really rocky visit with the surgeon. He did warn me that he was going to inject my hand three times with what he called a “mean” shot.

That certainly gave me a pause to stop and consider. I asked him to please let me go to my happy place first, but he was too impatient and I didn’t quite get there before he injected me.

 

I heard a woman screaming in what I thought was the background. I didn’t realize until after he was finished, that woman was me. I remember thinking that this woman was clearly in a lot of pain and I felt sorry for her. I’m not sure what I did to the MA’s hand who was holding mine. But I’m sure I must’ve mashed it pretty bad.

The surgeon explained to me that the reason that it was more painful than usual is because my nerves are still disconnected, they are still inflamed, pretty angry and out of sorts. Further, he explained that the majority of people suffering the complications that I have been dealing with since the surgery. 50% of them will recover fully. However, we will not know for several months if that’s happening.

For now, they want to see me for the next four months. Thankfully, this time they don’t want to see me every week. This time the visits have slowed down to every two weeks.

 

I am hoping these three injections will work. The pain was so intense. It honestly felt like they were flames coming out my fingertips. When I got home, the girls couldn’t climb on me fast enough. You can’t see Kota, but he is lying beside me on the floor. It was a difficult day. They all brought me such comfort the minute I walked through the door.