Tag: the walk to wellness

I Broke My Triangular Fibrocartilage Complex

Bones
Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

Three weeks ago I broke the triangular fibrocartilage complex in my right wrist. This is, unfortunately, my dominant hand.

The triangular fibrocartilage complex as a series of cartilage, evidenced by the name, and also ligaments. It’s on the little finger side of the wrist and it deals with the interaction between your ulna and the bones in your wrist. It plays a crucial role in allowing you to turn your wrist, because the cartilage provides a smooth surface for the bones to interact over. It also prevents your bones from clunking together.

So it’s kind of integral to the use of your right arm. Which means in the middle of the year of all my practical work I do not have use of my right arm. And I will not have use of my arm for quite some time.

I don’t see an orthopaedic surgeon until September. After that, I need an MRI for them to identify where the damage is and how bad it is, and then I’ll be booked in for surgery. Damage to the cartilage between the ulna and the wrist bones must be surgically repaired. It does not go away with rest. So after surgery I will be in a cast for 7 weeks, and then I have physiotherapy for 6 to 8 weeks.

So in reality, it’s looking like I won’t have use of my right arm for the rest of the year. This also means I can’t actually type – I’m using Google dictation to write this, and I’m adding in the punctuation manually. It’s an interesting experience because I’m used to my fingers doing the thinking, instead of my mouth. I’m not used to speaking my thoughts out loud, and I’m certainly not used to writing this out loud, some of my most private and personal thoughts, available for the world to read but not for those in my life. In a sense it’s easier this way.

I’m having to relearn a lot of things now, using my left hand. I’ve never been even vaguely ambidextrous, and so using my left-hand for things is somewhat complicated. I have spent the last week sulking and generally feeling very sorry for myself over this. It’s hard not to when the hits just keep coming and they don’t stop coming. I don’t feel like I’ve had a break. I feel like every year there is something new, some new way of impact in my life and my ability to do things. It sucks, and I have to let myself feel that.

Now, though, I am back on my feet, more or less. I’m sorting out an MRI in advance of the orthopaedic surgeon’s appointment, I have sorted out physiotherapy already, and I’m going to interview a personal trainer to help me make sure I don’t lose muscle mass. And to improve my non-existent muscle mass. Ah the joys of doing nothing for 2 years. And being on Tegretol, which I’m now off (yay), but I still haven’t lost any of the weight I got while I was on Tegretol (not so yay).

It’s unpleasant, the damage to the joint. Not only is it painful to turn my wrist, but there is a distinct clicking which is always excruciatingly painful when it happens. I also can’t use my right hand to push off objects because that puts pressure on that joint, and I can only very carefully lift things. I can’t turn my key in my car. I can’t crochet. I can’t type, I struggle to use a mouse, and that’s all just pants.

So over the next few weeks I’m going to be figuring out what on earth I can do, because I will go insane if I don’t have anything to do for the rest of the year.

Another Dog … Another Failure

Bones
Photo by Isabela Kronemberger on Unsplash

A couple of months ago I got a dog to train up to be my mobility helper.

He was terrified of men. So he was rehomed, and now lives the life of luxury, sleeping on beds and being spoiled. I had to seek outside confirmation that I couldn’t have made it work with him, because he was such a sweet dog, and he was the first one I had tried. But, ultimately, I cannot work with a dog who is terrified of men.

Last week I got another dog, also to train up to be my mobility helper. This time I took it slow. I went out and met him, I took my friend with me to assess his temperament, and then went home and had a long talk about him. I picked him up, and he was anxious, but he never put a foot wrong. He didn’t put a foot wrong the entire week I had him. He was sweet, lovely, willing, and just adapted to every situation thrown at him.

But he had some health quirks that could have been indicative of serious problems, and he smeared saliva everywhere. My amazing human isn’t able to cope with dog saliva, so we agreed he would not be joining us permanently.

I know it’s a process, I know the right dog is one-in-a-million, but I am feeling disheartened by this. It’s hard work to meet the dog, check them over, take them on for a bit, and then figure out how to explain to the old owner why their beautiful, lovely, fantastic, and genuinely amazing dog failed, because that’s what it feels like to them. The last owner didn’t understand, and was very upset by it, and I think that, more than anything, has led to me feeling so bad this time around.

I haven’t given up finding the right dog. Or rather, I have flights of fancy that I don’t need the extra help, that I’ll be able to figure out a way around all of this so I don’t need a dog, and life will continue on as it always has. But they are brief, and generally beaten over the head with a mallet with my leg doesn’t want to hold my weight, or when I have a dizzy spell.

But for now I am going to sit back and relax and rest up. The stress of the last few weeks is finally catching up with me.

Noise Cancelling Earbuds

Bones
Photo by Icons8 Team on Unsplash

A good few years ago I went ahead and got myself a pair of Bose Quiet Comfort II headphones. These were the top active noise cancelling headphones available (within my price range). I got these right as exam period started up, and I lived in them.

I have aspergers, or autism as they’re now calling it. I come from a long family line of aspies, and we all have our own quirks. For me, noise is hard. When I’m stressed, like during exam time, I can’t filter out noise and I can’t concentrate around that noise. The noise cancelling headphones were an absolute game changer – all of a sudden I could isolate myself from the outside world and hyperfocus on my uni work. It was amazing!

Well then trigeminal neuralgia happened. All of a sudden my one escape from the world was no longer there, and I had to deal with extra pain, extra stress, and noisy life. I haven’t been able to wear anything over my face since. I made do with noise isolating earbuds and bemoaned the loss of my peace and quiet.

Until now. I just splashed out and got myself a pair of Sennheiser’s new Momentum True Wireless 2 earbuds. I quite honestly cried when I put them in and turned on their active noise cancelling function – all of a sudden the world around me just dropped away, and I heard nothing for the first time in over a year.

This is bliss. I’m going to live in these for a while now!

Sometimes You Just Have To Sleep (The Day Away)

Bones
Photo by Jon Butterworth on Unsplash

One delightful part of fibromyalgia is having unrestful sleep. For me, that means having vivid nightmarish dreams. Last night involved floating cows, deer crates, and then people infected with rage virus trying to kill each other (including me). It wasn’t a particularly fun night, and as a result, I woke up feeling a little bit like death warmed up.

Had breakfast and coffee, sat around for a bit … still death warmed up. Had second breakfast of cinnamon french toast, courtesy of my Amazing Human, and more coffee, but the excessive fatigue persisted.

Giving in, I curled myself up on the couch and lay down. I was out like a light.

I say ‘sleep’ rather than ‘nap’ because I’m typically out for about 4 hours, and I usually wake up feeling more rested than I do after a ‘good night’s sleep’. Today was no different.

Despite needing to do more cleaning, I slept solidly from midday until 4pm and I woke up feeling so much better. I wouldn’t have achieved a single thing by remaining conscious, but after that nap, I managed to finish off the bathroom and toilet and the cat pooping room / laundry.

With fibromyalgia, or with any other chronic illness, if you’re knackered … you need to sleep. Even if it means sleeping half the day away!

Chronic Illness and Cleaning

Bones
Photo by JESHOOTS.COM on Unsplash

I hate cleaning. I hate it with a burning passion, because it takes time and energy and effort and then you have to do it all over again next week. I like things to be done once and then stay done. Which, sadly, isn’t the case for the dishes, or the dust, or the cat litter trays, or the bathroom, or the toilet, or the carpet, or the cat hair …

I live with two lads who firmly believe that cleaning is a thing you do once every six months when it’s a flat inspection and that’s about it. If anything was cleaned, it was me who did it. Including most of the dishes. A few years ago we decided on a compromise: we’d all pay a bit extra, and each week we would have someone come over and clean the communal areas for an hour, these being the floors of every door that’s open (so my flatmate can leave his office door open if he wants and it’ll get vacuumed), the bathroom, and the toilet. It worked out fantastically for everyone involved – I suddenly had more spoons to spend elsewhere, and we all got a nice clean house.

Unfortunately COVID is a thing and my amazing cleaner is half way up the country at home. I’ve been managing to vaguely keep on top of at least the cat and dog hair, and the bathroom, but the toilet’s gone to the lads. Even more unfortunately we have a flat inspection in three days.

So I get to do all the cleaning.

Now I’m the kind of person who likes to get up, do everything in one hit, and then sit back down again. This sometimes works, and sometimes doesn’t. I’d read somewhere about doing things in bits, and taking rests in between – a concept that fills me with deep unease and no small amount of misdirected anger. Since I have only a few days to get the house to rights, and then a full week ahead of me (with a full day of driving immediately after that), I figured I should probably do the sensible thing and pace myself.

I got up, I cleaned a few more spots of cat puke off the carpet, liberally applied toilet duck (although at this point I’m convinced the toilet requires an exorcism), and sprayed the cleaning product all over the shower stall. Then I lay down for 40 minutes.

It was a bloody challenge to haul myself off the couch again and continue cleaning, but get up I did, and thus I cleaned. I did the shower stall and the sink, and lay back down. Then I got up and went out to the paddock for the first time in days.

And you know what? I think this whole ‘doing a bit at a time and then resting’ has a lot more going for it than my usual ‘DO ALL THE THINGS AT ONE TIME’. And I didn’t combust with misplaced rage while doing it, either. I’ll have to experiment with it more!