We had what was, I suppose, our last visit with the surgeon this week.
I suppose it was as it seems he does not "release" people.
You can come talk to me whenever you like, he said as he slipped quietly from being the surgeon who saved the use of my hand and wrist to that subtly arrogant doctor who is better with patients who are asleep.
I cannot feel my hand, I explained, hoping for some information about how long it might take to come back.
Yes you can, here, see? I'm touching your hand, you can feel this.
I'm not sure why we'd go back.

K has a ganglion which could be aspirated or operated or just watched. He's going to just watch.

We went to the Guggenheim afterwards. I forgot that the building makes me dizzy. I cannot look at art whilst standing on a hill, heading downward.

We went to a friend's butcher shop after that. We bought delicious things.

But the day had been shaded, for me.
I'm tired of being a patient but everyone agrees that I must do exercises to strengthen my hand.
I can't open jars or write much.
So, I will. I shall.

Tuesday will be one year. One year that moved so slowly I thought I'd never see the anniversary of it. One year so fraught with appointments and complications and PT that it became a way of life.
Now I have my old life back, slightly damaged.
I have been determined not to let this event "make me old." But I minced around the ice all winter and I clutch my hand to my chest in a crowd. I am afraid of things. I won't wear shoes that aren't flat.
I look sorrowfully at injured people. My story is no longer a recent event.
And, as much as I try not to let it be true, I think I have become old.


Mary Beth said…
I think you have become not so much old as fragile and that takes time to heal. One day you'll be walking through a crowd and suddenly you will realize that you are not clutching your hand to your chest. As with so many things, it takes time to forget how awful the accident was. You are human :)
Amy A. said…
You will never be old, sweet bb. Be of good courage! You are careful and that's okay.
JustJulie said…
This July 6 will will mark the 3 year anniversary of my left knee surgery...the one I tried so hard to avoid...but in the January previously, I walked up and down the hills of Berkeley for an hour, and injured my meniscus...I was 49 yrs old, and not feeling old....but I was post-menopausal (ties in to that stupendously marvelous link you posted) and not paying attention to being kind to my joints/tendons, whatnot, so I blithely thought I could hike up and down these severe hills with a friend...waking up next day with sore knee, not realizing the damage I'd done. Fast forward months, it was still not letting me go back to my exercise walking routine, or yoga. I finally saw a sports medicine doc, who recommended surgery. I have never recovered the use of my knee to walk the way I used to. And I was not only healthy as a horse, but very active. But, say la vee, as they say...right? I am not old, but aging. Mindset m'dear. that's all it is.
alice c said…
It is a part of your life. An important part of your life but not all of it. The things that have made you the person you have become are your parents, your family, your friends, your wonderful boys and K.
Paola said…
You old?
You will never be old.
You are young, vibrant and one of the most sensitive and kind people I have ever met.
It kills me to see you discouraged although I understand a hand is a terribly used and necessary part of our body. I wish I had wiser words, but I get words won't heal your hand ...
If I were there I'd hold it though.
Anonymous said…
You are ageless, and too wise to throw caution to the wind after your experience.

Anonymous said…
this is going to sound awful, and it isnt.
Pray with all that is within your being that this is the worst thing that will ever happen to you or your loved ones-because you got through it. But be thankful that it wasn't worse, as many families are crippled by cancer or MS as they watch their loved ones slowly disappear. Others push their children around in chairs with wheels, with bags hanging. You have witnessed the how fragile the human body is, but please don't let that be anything but an eye-opener. Get up, dust off your old metal roller skates and live. Live. Live.
Paula said…
One day it will suddenly come to your awareness that all that crap baggage has faded to the background and you've figured out how to work with and around your limitations. And some days? You'll still be pissed, but not so much.
raych said…
I can't believe it's been a year.

You have been so, so brave.
kt said…


As in non-sense.

Being cautious is not a bad thing. Being aware is not a bad thing. You had a bad thing happen and you are moving forward and away from it. That doesn't mean you forget it.

Everyone changes, but you are a classy dame and I don't see that changing any time soon. As Mr. Smartypants likes to say, "Fret thee not."