I am hard at work preparing for my business trip to Germany in October. It seems so far off but K and I are going away next week for a bit and I won't be back to work until September 8th. There are many busy days between September 8th and Germany and I know the time will pass quickly.
I went to PT three times this week as I have doctor appointments today and am home tomorrow too. Three PT appointments in a row is too much for me, I realized, and last night, I ended up with my hand back in its protective sock, in a lot of pain.
Just as I was telling my therapist, yesterday, that I was worried that I'd never regain full use of my hand, a new person joined us at the hand table. He warned me that he usually scares people away from that location and I soon saw why. He'd been in a motorcycle accident and broke both of the bones in his left arm. He had surgery with the same surgeon as me and began our conversation by saying: oh, sure, he's a genius...my surgery was a success and now I'm a cripple! He continued like that for about 20 minutes with something negative to say about everything. God help you! That's your dominant hand? What will you do? he shouted. I was happy to be done for the day and walked out more hopeful than when I arrived.
On Monday evening I was telling my other therapist that I sometimes feel sorry for myself. She said that she felt that wasn't an accurate description of how I was feeling and asked me to think about it. I changed it to: sometimes I'm sad that this happened to me.
Oh, she said, do you feel like your life has been broken and will never be the same after this?
I don't feel like that at all.
I feel sad sometimes.
I know I will get better.
I will move on and this will have been a hard time.
I will be okay.
She doesn't know me very well.