Four Months Today

It's been four months now since I fell and broke both bones in my wrist. It is unbelievable to me how one small incident has been able to turn my world upsidedown. And for an injury to the hand "I don't use." How on earth would I have managed if it had been the right wrist?

Last week I was sent to another Doctor for tests to see what and how much damage was done to the nerves. I'm learning more all the time about how much damage that fall did. This last Doctor was really wonderfull. The Doctor (Surgeon) who set the bone and who has been treating me, is one of those men who feel they don't have to explain themselves. They know what we need and that's that. He scared me with the news that I may still need surgery and was sending me for more tests. I thought I was seeing him this time to decide if he would prescribe more therapy. I still can't use my hand well and now he's talking surgery. Was I starting over now with one week shy of four months since I fell?

I didn't have to worry about it too long. The tests were set up for the very next day. That alone was scary. Electrodiagnostic Testing. Two tests, an EMG and an NCS. The EMG stands for electromyogram and the NCS for nerve conduction studies. I will quote from the paper I was given.

"During the EMG, a very thin wire, like a tiny pin, is inserted through the skin and into muscles to be studied. The wire is teflon coated to make it pass easily through the skin. The wire, called an electrode, is then gently moved around slightly within the muscle. The electrical activity in the muscle is heard and projected onto a television screen. When the NCS test is done, various nerves will be stimulated with a very small electrical shock. It determines how fast the nerves are conducting messages from on place to another." It also displays on the screen.

It all sounds a lot worse then it was. There were pin pricks all over my hand and arm all the way to my shoulder. Only one left a mark, and I still have a nice bruise from it. The shocks certainly weren't pleasant, but easy enough to handle. Maybe all those jolts from my Fathers electrical fences set up to keep the pigs fenced in taught me something useful after all.

The best part of the test, though, was this new Doctor. He actually talked to me.....and he listened to me. When I reached my car after the test, the tears that swamped me weren't from pain. It was an emotional release that I've badly needed. I don't believe I ever wanted to hug a Doctor before in my life.....but, I could have hugged this one.

I have been pretty upset about how my wrist and hand look and move. Not just that there is still swelling. My hand is not straight and in line with my arm. I've been upset and angry with the surgeon who set the bones. Not to mention that pinch that tortured me till days after the cast came off.

This Doctor listened to me and then answered all my questions. And, did it without defending the surgeon. But, I now have a better understanding of what I am recovering from. First he explained that the nerve is much deeper and couldn't have been damaged by the pinching cast. It was hurt when the bones snapped. As for the rest, I knew most of it, but even a small missing piece of the puzzle can make all the difference. I knew this was a compression fracture. The pressure that snapped the bones came from straight on. Not from the side. I believe I described my wrist at the time as looking like a lazy S or actually ~. I'd been told that the bones did a lot of damage to the tissue and tendens and muscle. So even thought the bones were set straight, that damage couldn't be fixed. Even my veins were re-routed. You can actually see that in the top of my hand. I knew the tendens and muscles had shrunk during the time I was in the cast. That was why I needed therapy when the cast came off. What hadn't sunk into my understanding was that those tendens and muscles were also left with no support when torn from their location. They aren't where they belong and can't do the job they were meant to do. Thus I have a twisted hand that even after months of therapy won't move like my right hand. And, may never do so again. But, this doctor reminded me that I need to look at "the glass half full, not half empty." I do have a lot of use back. I've come a long way and could still gain more. There is nerve damage, but it is minimal. Mostly I only have to give the sheath covering the nerve more time to heal. That should take care of the stinging/burning pain I still have. I will always have the ache and probably arthritis too. But, he told me he could see how hard I've worked on my exercises. He praised me for coming so far so fast. It was just what I needed to hear. He also told me not to let the surgeon operate on me. I don't need it. He also said he doesn't believe the surgeon will even suggest surgery after seeing the test results. He assured me the surgeon did as good a job as possible considering the severity of the break. I'm curious to see just what the surgeon does say (or doesn't say) when I go back in another week. If he doesn't blow it again, I'm not as angry at him as I was.

Second Pregnancy

I was living back in Knox County, but I wanted the Doctor in Marion County who was a family friend. A Gynecologist who had bought Angus beef off of my family and done my first checkup way back when. I had told him about all the medics and the nurse who crossed my legs and sat on them, because after almost 11 months of pregnancy my son was suddenly in a hurry to be born in Germany. This Doctor, who had known me since I was a teen, shook his head and promised me I would be spoiled this time. It was worth the one hour drive to check ups to feel safe again. Besides, it was another chance to see Mom every time I made that trip.

The once a month early trips were easy. Then the weather turned bad and my wonderful Mother-In-Law, Ruth, worried enough to insist on going with me. I never was one to be afraid to drive in any road condition, but, I enjoyed Ruth's company. And this also gave both my "Mothers" a chance to get better acquainted.

J.T. was five now (till mid Feb.) and in kindergarden for half days. The school bus picked him up in the morning, but the parents were responsible for picking them up at noon. Luckily, our closest neighbor had a little girl the same age. So C.P. and I took turns driving. When I had a Dr. appointment in the morning, C.P. would keep J.T. till I got back. Which made me feel like I needed to hurry back, and cut short my visits with Mom. So I usually had afternoon visits with the Doctor and would drop J.T. and Ruth off with Mom while I saw the Doctor. This was certainly a different pregnancy then the one in the Army. (Where my ex-husband had kept control, by refusing to let me have an international drivers lisence.)

I remember the car we had at that time being a dark blue Chevy Impala. It must have been a 1969, because we bought it new within a year of getting married. What I am sure of is that it had Posi-traction. Which, with my limited mechanical knowledge, simply meant that if a wheel started to spin, the posi-traction would kick in and all four wheels would grab. I loved to drive that car. We lived on a county road with some pretty steep hills and bad curves. One intersection was especially treacherous. It was a curve at the bottom of a hill with a culvert and one county road intersecting and also, a township road intersecting right on the curve, just before the culvert. Add a little ice and/or snow, and getting around that curve could give anyone a thrill. (We came home one evening from bowling, to see my neighbors car hanging on it's side over the culvert. Another neighbor had already taken her on home. The car had to wait till the ice melted, to be pulled out.) W had put studded tires on the Impala. They were legal back them, and they worked. Too well, I guess. They tore up roads and now they are illegal. Which is too bad, because I could go anywhere, anytime in that car. (The neighbor even rode with me several times, just so she wouldn't have to drive when it was bad out.)

A few times, when I showed up at Moms for one of those winter Doctor appointments, she would scold me and she always said I wasn't smart enough to be afraid. Ruth would agree with Mom, but she always went with me.

Just once did my Impala actually slide. On that very treacherous curve one icy day before I had even gotten to Ruth's to pick her up. It was just J.T. and me when I was probably about 5 months pregnant. Going down the hill on thick solid ice was ok till I had to turn the wheel for the curve just before that culvert. The car kept going straight. Which was a good thing, because it crossed the intersection to the gravel township road. Where we kept sliding till the road started up another slope of a gentle hill. When we stopped, I had two choices. Continue on the gravel road to the highway, or get myself turned back to the county road and follow it to the main highway. In those conditions, the township road was much more dangerous, with sharper curves and deeper dropoffs and almost no traffic if I needed help. I'm not sure why, but I opened my door and started to get out. When my foot hit the ground, the car actually slid over. With just one foot on the ground, and me still in the car, I was actually able to spin my car totally around to face the other way. (I swear!!!) Then, very slowly, I trusted my studded tires and my posi-traction to drive back to the intersection and onto the county road. My 5 year old J.T. was whooping and hollaring for Mommy to "do it again." I made it to my Doctor appointment, but both of my Mothers were angry with me for going out that day. Especially after an excited J.T. told on me. Hey, after I got off the county road, the highways were almost fine.

While I'm talking about my Impala with the studded tires and posi-traction, there is one more instance where they proved themselves. Another icy day while I was still working and the car was brand new. The industrial park where I worked in one of the offices, was on a flat road with a z bend before our workplace. I got to work one day to see cars slid off onto the side everywhere. I stopped to pick up one of the other women and proceeded. There was one of the men and I started to stop to pick him up. He was yelling and waving at me to go on. When I stopped anyway, he told me I was a fool and I'd never get started again. The other woman told him to get in back and just watch. We had no trouble at all. By the time I got to work, my car had picked up two more of my male co-workers. Not one single man said a single word to me about what an excellent driver I was. They just raved about my Impala! So, after the ice melted, the other woman and I stayed just long enough for those men to walk to their cars. Then I took her to hers, .....and we laughed all the way.

The Last Office Job

I only worked with those women a bit over two years. I was hired as the fill in, to take up slack wherever it was needed. It was a young company that had moved from another city into a new building at our new Industrial Park. We made all kinds of gaskets. The offices were upstairs, with windows looking out over most of the factory floor. The factory supervisors offices, cafeteria and the storage area was below the main offices. Huge presses out on the factory floor reached as high as our viewing windows. It was noisy and everything vibrated with every thunk when one of the presses cut through metal or occasionally cork or other gasket material. Things vibrated around on our desks and it became second nature to move them back into place several times a day. All of that thumping was playing havic with those headaches of mine. (If you haven't read about them, it was posted back in mid March) Eventually that might have forced me to quit the job, but another problem presented itself first.

Gradually, as I became more familiar with the business, I took on the responsibility of reading the blue prints that came in for quotes from our accounts, or prospective accounts. Then I would match the blue prints to our dies and machines and write the orders for the factory to make prototypes to send back with our quotes. (Someone else worked up the quotes.) It was the blueprints that caused my problems. They had probably been copied many times and also sent to other companies for quotes. They were very faded and hard to read. My eye Doctor let me know I was losing almost 10% of my vision every 8 months. After my third change of glasses in two years, it was obvious I had to find different work. Though my doctor couldn't explain why my eyes were reacting this way, I had to think it had something to do with the constant headache.

W and I had been married almost 3 years and hadn't been able to get pregnant. That was quickly solved when I quit work. With the new pregnancy, I dind't even look for another job. Our baby was due in mid June. J.T. was in kindergarden and I was very happy the winter of 1970/71 living in a new house and just being a housewife.

The First House Party

It was so exciting to plan Christmas in our new home and not "under" it. That Monday at work I was so excited, I invited all my female co-workers to a party. Someone thought it would be a good idea to have our gift exchange at my house instead of the office. It was a hurry up, last minute, group planned event. We were all within 10 years of each other in age, and though I was still the new girl, we got along fine. Even the C.E.O.'s secretary was "just part of the gang."

The only thing I didn't take into account was the simple fact that we hadn't yet used the fireplace, and we were both unfamiliar with it's quirks. Remember this was an open through to two rooms affair. You can't have a winter Christmas get together without lighting the fireplace! W set it up for me and lit it. But, without previous experience, he used big long logs that reached all the way to the sides of the Heatilater. Then he took J.T. off to his folks for the evening. Shortly after the women had gathered, it was burning up a firestorm, and it got so hot in the front part of the house, we were roasted like chestnuts. So, naturally, I opened the back door. Ooops. That messed up the draft. Now smoke was sucking back into the house and our eyes were stinging and we were coughing. (Did I learn nothing from the apartment stove in Germany?)

Thank goodness for youth and high spirits. Laughing and teasing me, my party ended up shut away in the master bedroom. With snacks on the hope chest, and ladies sprawled on the king size bed, we opened our exchanged gifts in a sorority party frame of mind. So much for impressing my co-workers. Though of course, we did blame the man of the house.

Believe me, from then on we used much smaller pieces and a lot less wood when we used our fireplace. And the doors, even the door to the basement, had to stay closed.

A Few Mistakes, A Big Success.

Speaking of mistakes. There is one in the kitchen that an observer wouldn't notice, but had W in a panic till I thought of a simple solution. We used radiant electric heat. Wires are attached to the ceiling and then plastered over to seal them in place. Each room has it's own thermostat and there is no air blowing dust around. It's a constant, steady heat. With the heatalater fireplace as a backup for the rare power outage, we got along great with it. Our utility bills were lower then our neighbors too. But, when the wire was put up, W forgot about one full length cabinet in the kitchen that extended out even with the counters. It went from the built in double oven to the wall and housed Grandpa B's built in pantry. The wire was suppose to be kept a certain number of inches away from any other surface. Such as ceiling lights, walls or cabinets. With the wire already sealed in the plaster, it looked like I was going to lose my deep pantry storage cabinet. Until I asked why it couldn't just drop down those required inches. At the ceiling it was even with the top of the cabinets and then we dropped it down like an open shelf before coming back out to the depth we wanted. This gave me an exposed , open shelf to decorate with collectables. And, looked more like a design then a goof. No matter what problem developed, one of our minds came up with an answer. That house has a lot of each one of us in it.

Another one of those problems presented itself with the 32 Ft. wide garage. The men wanted seperate garage doors and a small walk in door. They decided to put the small door in between the big doors. So that was how the concrete blocks were layed. Then when it came time to set the center beam, they realized all the weight was going to land right over that little door and not a solid wall. They had to come up with a header that would distribute the weight. Of course this was early in construction and I quickly learned of their ingenuity. A house can be built without blueprints, if you have experienced builders with minds for the job.

W wanted a sunken living room. None of the family had built one, so they put their heads together and worked out how the wanted to do that. That design went well and without a problem or mistake. So well in fact, that when the carpet layers were doing their jobs, we discovered just how solid they had built it. The carpet men made a comment to my Father-In-Law that the sunken room had to be done carefully. They had actually moved walls before when they tried to stretch a carpet. F was a bit offended and told them he dared them to move one of "his" walls. So they tightened some more and had to admit everything was solid. The challenge extended to the other rooms, and I believe I had the best stretched carpets ever layed. And, the most solid walls.

Another one of their ideas gave me a shallow closet at the end of the stairs to the basement, at the end of the hall between the kitchen and dining room. The other end of the hall that led to the bedrooms. In the shallow closet they put in shelves that doubled as steps to the attic. It was my broom closet. The dining room wall was also the wall inside the stairwell that led to the basement. In the dining room, W built in a china cabinet that was high enough in the stairwell, and shallow enough, that you wouldn't hit your head on the back of this built in china cabinet going up the stairs. It had glass doors to keep out the dust and it was beautiful.

We were finally finishing the fall of 1969. I wanted everything done before we moved up and out of the basement. Everything except one bedroom. J.T. had picked the room he wanted and we let him pick the colors he wanted. He chose a corner room because it had two windows. The bedroom beside his was for the child W and I hoped to have some day. I thought we should wait to finish it when we discovered if it would be girl or boy.

There were still some details to finish in the kitchen and bathrooms in early December. My family was there one weekend to visit and offer help. When Mom and Dad saw how much was done, they decided it was far enough along to get us out of the basement. And, they moved us up. Except that my oven, stove, and fridge weren't ready to be set in place. So for a couple more weeks I lived upstairs, but had to go to the basement to cook. Or raid the fridge. I believe that gave W the push he needed to finish sooner. He had to run the water line for the ice maker (and sinks in kitchen and bath) and finish the cabinet tops to bring the kitchen out of the basement. By our second Christmas together, we were living in the house we built. Above ground. The most perfect Christmas gift I had ever received.

Sept, 1, 2006

I just found the tablet I was making notes for each days blog. Apparently, I'd already written the next page, and just hadn't typed it when I fell. So, now I know where to start again.

Therapy takes up a lot of my day. Then recovering from each of the three sessions, takes up more time. And, the pain has made me very lazy. So, I don't promise to get this done every day, but here we go........