You’re Not Gonna Believe This...
Oof, it’s been a rough couple of months. I was really just starting to get into the small business owner groove when tragedy struck. In August, my husband, friends and I decided to go longboarding. 5 minutes into boarding I misjudged a turn and was flung from my board. As I sat up I instantly knew my right wrist was hella broken. We rushed to the urgent care. On top of the broken wrist and the road rash my phone had fallen out of my pocket and was picked up by some kids. (Spoiler alert! My husband got it back for me and may have scared the crap out of some kids. Thank the gods for track my Iphone.)
But back at the urgent care I got to see the xrays of my throughly fucked wrist bones. I had shattered the distal end of my radius and fractured it farther down. I had also dislocated my ulna. I got sent over to the ER and had to have my bones reset and told that I would need to have surgery. Let me tell you if you’ve ever had to have your bones reset I’m so sorry because it’s a horrible experience. Not only is it painful as fuck there is about 30 people in the small ER room which is super overwhelming. That night I got to go home and was told to go to the orthopedic surgeon the next day. The highlight of that day was when I went home and got some get well presents. A new squishmallow would boost anyone's mood.
At the surgeon’s office the next day I got the first dose of shitty news in what would be a long list of shitty news regarding this injury. My surgeon told me my break was not ideal for independent healing and that I would need surgery to put in a plate to hold together the fracture farther down my radius, but that the shattered bits at the end of the bone were holding together well. But, I would have to wait 2 weeks for the surgery due to inflammation, which isn’t cool. I get the surgery done, wait another two weeks and go in for my 1st post-op appointment. I get some more x-ray and my stitches out and that’s when the surgeon comes in with shitty news yet again. The shattered bits at the end of my radius had moved and I would need another surgery the very next day to put in a temporary bar to hold everything together. Great.
I wake up from the second surgery and the surgeon comes in with, you guessed it, more shitty news. They had put in the temporary bar only to immediately remove it due to a carpal being out of place. So they improvised and changed out my hardware put in during the first surgery to something that would hold the shattered bits in place. I ended up with 4 different incisions, almost 30 stitches, and multiple holes in my bones. The healing for this surgery was super fun (queue sarcastic laugh).
At this point, my care was transferred to a hand specialist. This would be the 2nd doctor to look me straight in my face and say that it was just a shitty break. Which I have to say was pretty funny. And in the first bit of good news since this shit show of an injury started the specialist said no more surgeries for the time being and that I could get on to the road for recovery. 2 weeks later, I got all those stitches out and was put into a removable brace and told I could work on my mobility.
During this whole process, people close to me showed so much support and kindness. So many well wishes and check ins. It really helped to lift my spirits. But this has been extremely hard for my mental health. Not being able to do the things I love and having to rely on others to help me with my basic needs was humbling and difficult. I take a lot of pride in being able to take care of myself properly and having to teach my husband my standard of self-care was a blow to my self-esteem to say the least. I had to accept that I had to let things like my complicated skincare routine fall to the wayside. Honestly, I hated it. I hate feeling helpless. It’s the worst feeling. But now, I’m getting more of my mobility back and I’m on the up and up (hopefully, I would hate to jinx myself at this point.)
