I’d Give my Right Arm to Have my Right Arm Back

Bionic arm working and eating

I watched all the “Bionic” TV shows growing up – “Bionic Man”, “Bionic Woman”, and there was even a very cute “Bionic Boy” for a short time who had a Bionic German Shepherd.  I loved the beginning of the show when the dramatic voice-over would say “We have the technology…we can rebuild him…” Well, my right arm isn’t exactly “bionic” but it’s finally on the mend.  (If you missed my post from April 11th, this is an update on my broken arm saga.)

I wore a cast for three weeks, but the bone wasn’t healing straight, and the doctor informed me that the only alternative was surgery.  “We have the technology,” he said.  “We can rebuild you.”  Okay, he didn’t say that, but he told me that a metal plate and some screws would put my bone back together and return my arm to 95% of its former glory (I don’t know what’s included in that missing 5%, but I’ll let you know.)

I admit that I cried when I heard the news, then off-and-on for a week until the surgery could be scheduled. “How could this be happening to me?” I asked.  I’ve spent most of my adult life exercising, eating healthy and doing everything I can to avoid winding up in a hospital.  I’m not into bungee-jumping, hang-gliding, skydiving…I don’t even ski. And yet here I was facing…surgery?  I was angry…and terrified…and then amazed when, an hour after the operation, my husband was driving me home with my arm in a sling (They do have the technology!)

Now that I’ve gotten over the largest hurdle, a few good things have come out of this experience. First of all, I learned that my life-long healthy habits are, in fact, paying off.  When I went in for the pre-op I had to take a battery of tests and the nurse who gave me the test results remarked that she usually doesn’t see test results this good. “Not at your age.” I wish she hadn’t added that part, but I’ll try to see it for the compliment that it is. Secondly, I learned that I would be a complete failure as a drug addict.  A few of my friends had joked(?) that I would really enjoy taking the pain drugs that the doctor prescribed – I didn’t.  They had too many side effects including depression.

And finally, after a few days of being stoned, sedentary and pretty darn helpless, I’ve truly come to appreciate where my life was a month ago before this all happened and, I never thought I’d say this, I long for a return to the normal annoyances of daily life.

Rehab, here I come. (Arm rehab folks!)