For KD sufferers in the late stages, there is no respite at rest or in action. A cast can at least eliminate the fear of further injury, prevent one from over-using, and provide a convenient cradle in which to nestle the lame appendage.
Similar to this love-hate affair with one's cast is the compromise one accepts with public reaction. There is relief in the fact that people are more careful around you, more solicitous, sometimes more helpful. There is frustration in the reality of constant questions, annoying quips (middle-aged men with floating duck rings), and the worst, medical opinion. Most people believe you have a broken arm. Others might inquire and with the brief details you provide them conclude you have something akin to carpal tunnel syndrome. Not that there is anything wrong with that.
It is so childish, so small-minded, but every so often I am enraged by this and want this well-meaning stranger to feel very bad about my condition. I want to establish my case in the hierarchy of illness. I will solemnly reveal all the sad details of my disease and its worst case scenarios. I will watch as the stranger's face drops a little. It's mean. I can't resist it.
With one arm casted and the other virtually useless I have given up the pretence of being capable. My reluctance to ask for help has all but slipped away. I can't cook, drive, or write any longer. I now have a housekeeper. I order my groceries online and they are delivered promptly. I am working out a system that will let me live my life and fulfill my responsibilities. I miss small things though. I miss reading to my youngest at bedtime, snuggled beside him on the pillow. My hands can only bear the weight of the lightest of books. So we sit up and lay the book out on the duvet, my 3-year old turning the pages. It's not so bad.
Dr.G has booked a surgery for my right wrist for late October. He is keen to not let the KD progress as it has in my left. While I am willing to do almost anything to be rid of the pain in my right, I understand his logic. In the meantime, I can only be.
To Eric, my tireless
Beast of Burden:
|The Rolling Stones - Beast Of Burden .mp3|
|Found at bee mp3 search engine|