Look What I Can Do Today!

The surgery is over, I’ve recovered from the havocs of anesthesia and my arm is screwed and plated in place so it shouldn’t fall off anytime soon.  It was a helluva June! 

Now, as they say, the real work begins. Yesterday, I learned that my one-hooved/pawed/handed status will be part of my life for awhile.  Up to a year, the hand therapy experts say. I gulped as she gave me that prognosis. I felt my eyes start to tear up.  I was thinking 6 -8 weeks.  A year? Crap!  Well, that’s not exactly what I said.

Doing my hand exercises

She followed up with reassurances that she was super impressed with what I’ve been able to accomplish so far (pulling the lid off a half open can of cat food!) and all the “horse people” she’s worked with over the years have a special determination that speeds up progress.  Hooray for us horse-folks – we have guts!

After digesting that information and brushing the tears away we delved into the mechanics of what’s wrong with my arm.  There are multiple issues from my shoulder to my fingertips, many just resulting from the trauma to the arm and several weeks of immobilization.  Fairly typical for the type of fracture I had and routinely addressed with physical therapy.  But, noooo, I wouldn’t do something “routine”.  I have to be different!

When my arm fractured the radial nerve which runs from the shoulder to fingers was damaged.  This has left me with a condition called Radial Neuropathy and Palsy (ICD-9-CM code 354.3 or ICD-10-CM code 656.31).  In plain English it means my arm and hand is partially paralyzed with the hand and fingers most acutely affected.  For inquiring minds, here’s more information - Radial Nerve Dysfunction.

In terms of my life it means I can’t do things like two-handed keyboarding (yep, I’m typing this with one hand),  use my camera, drive, microchip a cat, saddle a horse (yet!), hold a brush to blow dry my hair, shave my left armpit, uncork a bottle of wine, hold the phone and write/type with the other or even take a shirt off that’s not stretchy or has buttons.  Well…..you get the idea.

But let’s talk about what I can do with one hand.  I can halter and lead a horse, keyboard with increasing speed, give a horse a bath, pill a cat  (I’m especially proud of this!) and pull weeds in the garden. Oh yeah, don’t worry, except for the armpit I can do all that stuff.  Personal hygiene as it is so politely called.

My right arm and hand isn’t completely useless.  Everyday I’m finding new things I can do.  Last week I couldn’t fold any laundry.  This week I can fold towels. I discovered last night that I can draw up a cat vaccine.  I can hold a teaser for the cats’ playtime although Stella gets feisty and can pull it out my hand.  I can carry a lightweight, empty feedbucket a few feet (definitely couldn’t do that last week).  I’ve started using my right arm to assist in pulling on my pants.  I  can even operate the page forward/backward buttons on my Kindle – woo-hoo!! And, I’m pretty darn proud at the gesture I was able to do to express my disagreement with that blasted one year timeline!

I have a plethora of exercises to do everyday between twice weekly therapy appointments.  I’ve been assured that the burning pain in my hand will decrease soon and functionality will continue to progress but the fingers are at the end of the line for regaining use. 

As I settle into my routine exercises of manually spreading the fingers apart on my right hand with my left or gripping a table top with my thumb and forefinger, I’ll have plenty of time to reflect what’s good in my life. 

I have a super supportive husband (if not sometimes a little pushy), an in-house advice nurse with my sister and an unlimited number of friends who are spoiling me rotten (can anyone say Princess?).  I’m blessed with a job that I’m able to perform perfectly well even with my limitations.  FieldHaven is a pretty awesome place to be “stuck” at!  And, I am surrounded by my kitties, my hound and my beautiful horses. Hey, this is starting to not sound so bad!

This morning I watched news reports of Aimee Copeland, the 24 year old Georgia woman with necrotizing fasciitis, leaving the hospital where she’s been for  two months for rehab. Aimee left behind both hands, both feet and a leg – all amputated to save her life.  Yet her dad said she “is very excited”.

Mmmmmm…….I think I’m a pretty lucky girl!  I will get to use my hand again some day. Unlike Aimee.  And it WILL be less than a year.  MUCH LESS.

A June To Forget

It was just after Memorial Day and the summer was really looking to be a spectacular.  I had just returned from a 3 week trip that stretched from Montana (fox-hunting), New Jersey (visiting mom) and New York state (a revitalizing week at Healing Spirits Herb Farm – I still need to blog about that magical place).  My garden planting was well under way in preparation for Classics, Cats and Cabernet and I had 5 fabulous horses to work with over the summer.  Preston and I were planning on doing some boating and a few other fun things through the summer.

Physically,  I was feeling better than I had in a long time.  The lumbar fracture that marred the hunt season was in the past and I rode in Montana full-gallop ahead.  Then after the life-altering visit to Healing Spirits (yes, I will write that blog soon) I was on top of the world.  Tons of energy and feeling like a 20 year old rider in the saddle.  Well, OK, I still wasn’t able to ride a course – or even 1 jump – without stirrups.  But I definitely was getting my riding mojo back.

Feeling great in the saddle
May 29

In fact, on the morning of May 30^th I posted this picture on Facebook that Preston took of me and Taylor the night before.  The comment I made was “Feels good to be back in shape and riding full steam ahead after a long 6+ months on layup!”

Jaxon and I about 4 steps before SPLAT!
May 30

That evening Preston was in the arena me setting fences and snapping a few pictures while I schooled Jaxon.  I had jumped about 3 warmup fences when about 3 steps after the jump just as we were turning left Jaxon stumbled and I flew off right.  I landed hard and it seemed at first that I just knocked the wind out of me.  As I regained my breath my arm felt weird.  I told Preston that I thought it was broke. At first he said no then he touched it.  Bones moved. Yep, broke. 

He asked me if I wanted ambulance or should he get the car.  The car of course.  After all, it’s just a fractured arm – not worthy of calling an ambulance.  However, while he was getting the car the pain started coming.  And, this overwhelming feeling that my arm would fall off if anyone touched me. 

By the time Preston came back with the car I said F$%^ the car, call an  ambulance.  And NOW! 

My friend Peri was there by then.  I remember them both asking me if they could take off my helmet.  I said no, because I thought my arm would fall off if they did.  F#$^, just get the ambulance.

My in-agony language was colorful.  F#$&, it hurts.  F#$&, where’s the ambulance.  F$%* it hurts.

I laid there by myself for several minutes as Preston put Jaxon away and Peri went off to get some F%^&ing ice that I thought would make the F$%ing pain go away.

Finally, the ambulance did arrive and the crew was wonderful.  They got me up, took my helmet off after convincing me my arm wouldn’t fall off and settled me in the ambulance.  The EMT started an IV as we headed down Virginiatown. I felt every little bump in the road.  “Oucch”, “darn that hurt”, “Crap”.  She told me I could use better words and she wouldn’t be offended.  I giggled a little as the morphine and versed started to work. I uttered not one more F%&.

Ouch!

I don’t remember a whole lot about the rest of that night but Preston and Peri could probably give you a few laughs.  They kept me well sedated – so much so that I started to forget to breath regularly. 

About 6 hours and a huge immobilizer on my arm later, I slightly remember turning around and looking around the room we had occupied.  Arena sand was everywhere!  And, I still had my boots, half-chaps and spurs on.  Just like a real cowgirl.  But no helmet.

By the time I got to surgery it was 2 weeks later on June 13.  Just 3 days before our annual fundraiser. I told the surgeon that I had about 400 of my closest cat-loving friends coming to my house on Saturday and I would love it if we could do the surgery sooner.  He was unfazed by that fact and, no, that was the soonest.

I spent a pampered 2 ½  days in the hospital with wonderful nursing care and plenty of sleep – lots of sleep.

Doc was supposed to come by Friday morning to discharge me.  Nursing staff started trying to reach him at lunchtime.  They were finally able to get him to return their page at 9:45. PM.  My sister picked me up at 10:30 pm and I arrived home at 11pm, only 15 hours before CC & C was to begin.

Forgetting all about the arm and focusing on the kitties

God Bless everyone who made the event go off successfully.  It was 104 degrees but the guests came and they spent money.  They dressed me up like a 3-legged cat, gave me my allottment of pain meds and sent me into the crowd.  I don’t remember a whole lot of the day except that I was all over the property talking to people.  I don’t know what I said but it appeared a good time was had by all.  And, $42,000 was raised for the kitties.

The rest of June I pretty much spent sleeping and working.  Oh yeah, and eating.  I kept telling myself that my body needed lots of nutrients to heal.  Is that true?

I’m done with June.  Bring on July!