WYFP is our community's Saturday evening gathering to talk about our problems, empathize with one another, and share advice, pootie pictures, favorite adult beverages, and anything else that we think might help. Everyone and all sorts of troubles are welcome. May we find peace and healing here. Won't you please share the joy of WYFP by recommending?
My FP started on April 5, and was the result of operating this
while momentarily not having my whole mind on what I was doing.
I hear everyone cringing now.
So I sliced off the corner of my finger. I will mention that it doesn't hurt at all when it happens. It does hurt quite a lot later. Also, it bleeds a lot. Among other amusements while trying to get the bleeding stopped, the cat got one of the lumps of bloodsoaked gauze out of the bathroom can, and my husband stepped on it, thereby forcing me to wipe down the bathroom floor by hand while using a tourniquet on my finger. Thanks, cat.
Finally, I said we needed to go to the ER. There we had to wait an hour, and I nearly cried, though I think it was less from pain than sheer frustration. However, the staff treated me well, much better than they have when I've had ear or kidney infections that came on in the middle of the night. Apparently the fact that I wasn't wailing impressed them. It wasn't as bad as my cramps get, and it wasn't bone pain like I get when my foot joints shift; those do make me cry. Plus, being hysterical wouldn't get me seen faster or make me feel better, so why do it? That night, I discovered a new FP. When the brain realizes that a hand is numb, it prods you to wake up enough to roll over. They had done a nerve block at the hospital, which did help with the pain, but which also meant that I couldn't go to sleep properly until it wore off.
The problem with healing has not been pain. It has been itching. My finger has either itched abominably or burned in the way that a peeled back fingernail burns for the last two weeks. Constantly. My temper has been short, and I have resorted once or twice to standing on my toes, which shifts bones in my bad foot and hurts worse, and therefore distracts me from my finger.
Of course, I am right-handed. The problem of having a large bandage one must not get wet on my dominant hand has been my biggest FP of all. So far, other FPs encountered below the fold:
Typing with almost but not quite two hands.
Learning to use the trackball mouse lefthanded.
Personal hygiene. (Change what hand you wipe with before you laugh.)
Other intimate acts, both solitary and with a partner. Especially when you can't get the bandage wet or dirty.
Care and styling of my hip-length hair. Husband can brush it, but putting it up is beyond him, and requires both my hands.
Many aspects of cooking, from buttering bread to chopping vegetables to sauteeing items. Heavy casseroles cannot be managed two-handed when lifting into or out of the oven.
Doing the dishes. (We don't have a dishwasher.)
Eating. Especially soup or other wet things.
The mending has piled up, because I cannot sew like this.
Using a broom or mop.
Carrying large items like laundry baskets or window air conditioners.
Operation of doorknobs.
Putting my glasses in the headboard of the bed at night.
No cash, since I cannot donate plasma.
Needless to say, I will be beyond thrilled when the damn thing finally heals up all the way and I have full use of my right hand again.
But apart from that, and the usual perils of being poor and injured in the USA....
What's your fucking problem this week?