New Year New Hand

In the awkward interlude after Christmas and before the new year the fateful long awaited day to remove my cast arrived. Bionica, the sky blue plaster cast that has covered most of my right hand, wrist and hand for the past 6 weeks has become just another part of me. As I waited in the long narrow hallway in an uncomfortable plastic chair, I thought of the bittersweet reality of losing the excuse that has allowed me to be a recent cavalier companion to life. With a broken bone 60% of normal activities, hobbies, passions, travel, work, housework, basic hygiene and even sleeping become impossible or extremely difficult. In order to not go completely insane I had to turn off the part of my brain that identified all of these things to be the makeup of who I am. I was no longer Evie the nurse, dancer, yoga loving and running machine ect, etc........ I was just me. No strings attached me, bumbling along most days with my cast in tow.

Sitting in that plastic chair a deep part of me dreaded what came next. I feared having to begin my life again. With no broken bone as an excuse what if I fail at living life? What if I never pick up the dreams I had put on the back burner? What do I do when I watch my best friends move away to go to graduate school and I stay here getting older but never changing my life circumstances? My cast was my exemption from having to worry about any of these things.

I swallowed the knot in the back of my throat and refused to let the hot brimming tears pour down my cheeks as I was beckoned into the back room. The ortho tech wielding a large electrical saw instructed me to sit and hold up my arm. Looking at my face he must of noticed the distinct look of apprehension and horror. He quickly reassured me that he has sawn off hundreds of casts and that he is quite the expert. I gave a vague nod in return my mind miles away and held up my arm. The saw was surprisingly powerful and for a brief moment I was certain that my cast would not be the only thing removed from my body that day. Then in the next moment it was all over. The cast cleaved in two was gently removed to reveal a disgusting specimen of weeks old dead peeling skin enshrouding a shriveled hand. It must of smelled horrible but without comment the tech handed me an alcohol soaked washcloth and pointed me back to the plastic chair from whence I had come.

I scrubbed my nasty little hand until I revealed pink vulnerable skin. I feel sorry for the poor unfortunate individual who had to sit amongst my abandoned skin flakes after I left. I don't know why I was expecting some kind of magic fix but my hand was not what I had expected it to be. Instead of my hand I had come to know and love, I was left with in my opinion a weak misshapen claw that seemed to be more of an accessory than an actual functioning appendage. I thought of my future self coddling the claw protecting it from ridicule as I begged for coins on a downtown street.

A couple of weeks later I am happy to report that the claw has sprung to life. It is performing mightily as it types this very blog. I hope that I am beginning to come around as well. I am currently bored out of my mind not because I don't have anything to do but because I have too much to think about and when overwhelmed my brain shuts down and that in itself is boooring. I actually want to go back to work, not because I love it but for the human craving of structure. I need something to base my life around. I need to know that on certain days I am doing certain things. With that solid base I hope I can begin to vanquish the fears that overwhelmed me that day as I sat on the little plastic chair surrounded by my skin flakes.