Kleenex and More Deep Thoughts

Today, when trying to blow my nose before using my allergy nasal spray, I grabbed the tissue box on my desk at work. The tissues were not sticking out of the top like they should have been ... they were stuffed down inside still. For some reason, the last Kleenex did not pull out the next. After picking up the box, I tried pinching and grabbing the next Kleenex. Epic fail. After a good 15 seconds of trying to get the darn thing out (and 15 seconds is a long time, took me about 8 tries to get it out), I realized that I can't feel my fingers.

It always escapes me that I can't use my hand. I still get into the mindset that I CAN TOO carry in the bag of groceries, or vaccuum the carpets. There are a few big things that I absolutely cannot do such as scrub things, ride most rollercoasters, or hold on for dear life to the "Oh Shit!" handlebars.

After my first surgery and I came home from the hospital, we video called my family. My sister, her husband and their two kids were staying at my parents' house that Thanksgiving. My siter's very precocious daughter is very much like me. I remember she was sitting on my mom's lap, and we were all talking about the hospital, and the surgery, etc. I was explaining how I couldn't feel my hand, but I could wiggle some fingers pretty good, moving them up and down and bend them slightly. This was a very big deal to me at the time, mostly because I was afraid I'd lost the use of my hand forever. One of the things my mother used to do is try to alleviate heavy issues with humor. Often obnoxious humor. She asked me if I was working on my "bird." It took me a second. "Mom, are you asking if I can flip people off?" If you recall I come from a very devout Christian household where saying crap was a sin. My mom says "Yeah," and shows me her middle finger. She did it right in front of my sister's daughter. I told her that wasn't appropriate. She said "Oh, she's only 3, she doesn't know what it means. Show me your finger!" My mother was encouraging me to flip people off. This was a post-surgery therapy I could live with. Much better than lifting my arm over my head and trying to pump a fist about 10 times.

Losing feeling and range of motion is something I'll live with forever, and is not easily accepted. I'm had these issues for years now, yet when I go to grab that kleenex,or I make an effort to try and flip someone off with my right hand, it's evident. You would think by now that I would be used to this kind of thing.

Showering is easier now, but still difficult. A side effect of surgeries has been an extreme sensitivity to temperature changes, or, conversely, an apparent lack to knowing my temperature. It's weird. I have both worlds. The scar tissue in my arm has built up rather knotted, and it does not like hot water, or cold water when I'm washing my hands or showering. One therapy I used to do was sand at the hand therapist in Kansas City, which is like water therapy. You stick your arm inside what looks like a rolling heater, and it blows sand all over your arm. Some of the things you can do inside it are make repetetive movements with your hand and arm, or squeeze objects. I like the hand motions, and I've transfered that to water. Although my hand and arm do not like hot and col, they really enjoy water. Water breaks down barriers that are evident 99% of the time. I love making swishing motions with my hand and moving my arm gently from side to side anytime i'm in a pool for example. Nothing pops, no tendons twinge over bones and scar tissue, nothing feels completely out of place. But once you remove the water, it's like the kleenex box all over again.

What drives me to be so patient and to only contemplate is my lack of anger with my arm itself. Sure, I'm mad that it took years for doctors to discover that I wasn't a hypochondriac, suer I'm mad that I was born with a bone compensation, sure I'm mad that people treat me certain ways based upon my abbilities - but I don't let any of this stop me. I continue on with my life. I realize that anger gets you nowhere when you can't conctrol the situation. Since I can't control hardly anything involving my arm, I've become an overly patient person with myself. I don't push. I'm the ever driving hammer at the nail.

I don't recall if when I left the office today though, the kleenex I took brought up the next one .... I guess I'll find out tomorrow when I need to take my allergy medication.