I never truly understood how limiting an injury could be till dealt with one on my own.
I have seen friends cope with concussions, broken bones and anxiety. Sympathizing with their situations, though never able to relate.
Only enduring minor bumps and scrapes along the way, I have felt pretty fortunate.
The past week though has shown me the truly frustrating side of mishaps.
On Friday, as the doctors prepped me for surgery, giving me anesthesia and nerve block, he proceeded to tell me what the next eight weeks would look like.
- No mobility
- No swimming
- No use of left hand
- Physical therapy for possibly a month after the initial eight weeks.
As I laid in the hospital bed holding the waterproof insert for the cast I thought I was getting, it was time to clear up the clearly misunderstanding.
We discussed again my upcoming trip the doctor informed me that my hand may not be 100% by August.
So…no surgery…apparently if you ask for alternative routes enough times someone will listen to you. Turns out I didn’t HAVE to have surgery. I COULD have a removable sling and be ok.
Now I must say I am grateful for the doctor for taking the time to in detail discuss what may or may not happen without surgery. I could sense his frustration and maybe if I had eight weeks and it was more than a broken pinkie, the results may have been different.
But I don’t in fact only 85 days till I begin the most challenging time of my life.
As I left the hospital hand wrapped up, the nurses, commended me on my decision. Agreeing that I had to what is right for me.
My healing process is 100% in my hands (literally).
Side note: Today was the first Open Streets of the Year. The last Sunday of the summer months, the main streets are closed off to vehicles, so bicyclists, walkers, yogis and vendors have the open road.
I walked and enjoyed seeing many biking along, including our hockey mascot Iceburgh.
Tomorrow is the first game for the Stanley Cup. Let’s Go Pens!!!