Sometimes you really have to search for it. The key is that you should go search for it. Each thing, even a bad thing, leads to something else... often something much bigger. Some call it the butterfly effect.
In any case, I broke my wrist in September. This may not seem to be a big deal, lots of people break their wrists. But for someone with FSH, it can lead to much more, as I soon found out.
How I broke my wrist is stupid and small and who would have thought something so insignificant like trying to move a fan could have such ripple effects, but it did.
First of all, let me say that the fan in question should not have been there. Lesson #1: Don't put off for tomorrow what you can do today. I had been meaning to get rid of that fan for the past two years. But kept waiting for the perfect replacement and was too lazy to dispose of it. I should have gotten rid of it. But I didn't and so in trying to move it, I tripped on one of the awkward "accident waiting to happen" legs, and tried to break my fall on the unstable stem of it which broke in half, sent me down to the ground where I landed on my wrist and shattered my radius bone.
So now I'm on the ground in the unceremonious "I've fallen and I can't get up" mode. Phones nowhere in reach and all alone. Lesson #2: Women are like tea bags, you don't know how strong they are until they get into hot water. So I regrouped and bum-walked my way to a phone, pulled a McGyver move with a broom handle and managed to open the door.
The rest is the usual trip to the ER followed by a cast followed by an xray that said the cast didn't work followed by surgery followed by heavy drugs and a the life changing moments that ensued.
As I said, broken wrist.. not such a big deal. But when you have FSH and are at the point in your "adventure" where you need both hands to transfer from seats, this is huge. Seats, by the way, includes toilets and the car.
Imagine that. Now I had to get someone to lift me off the toilet at the hospital because I was stuck. Embarrassing. Lesson #3: Always have clean underwear and shave your legs. OK, that second part was just for the girls.
Talk about your independence gone, in the snap of a finger. Lesson #4: One moment changes everything.
Thankfully, I had not hastened to sort out some mobility issues at home in anticipation of what may come. Lesson #5: Do all you can do while you can.
So I was, in fact, able to go home where I stayed for the next eight weeks. Eight long weeks. Thank god I was able to work from home or I would have gone out of my mind. I had to get my mom to move in with me which was really hard for me, but I think it finally made her feel like she was doing something, anything to help me. For me, it was humbling. Lesson #6: It's ok to ask for help sometimes.
Sadly, the laying on my back, the trauma of the fall and the surgery for which I was wide awake, the effects of the nerve block and far too much time to think, left my FSH in a what felt like a rapidly progressing state. My arms got weaker, my legs got weaker and my core got weaker. I had to get a walker and a boosters for the bathrooms at work and at home. I couldn't get past imagining a life of asking for rides, waiting fro help and no freedom. Lesson #7: Suck it up. It could always be worse.
I was so worried about what people would think of me in this new state. The walker, the booster, the limping... but I got to work and was embraced by all those I left. And was greeted by another colleague who, sadly, herniated a disc and had to use a walker after a five day hospital stay. Lesson #8: Shit happens to everyone.
So I am back at work and struggling a little, but I am back at work. More importantly, I am back to spending time with friends and doing some of the things I enjoy. I had to buy a new car so I could get in and out easy (how painful was that... not!) and have my VIP parking pass (disabled sticker) which really came in handy during the busy shopping season.
Most of all, it reminded me of how resilient I, and all those with FSH, are. I learned I had developed a pattern for when bad things take place. I cry, I mourn, I take a deep breath, I pull up my socks, I get on with it. Lesson #9: Life is too short to be on the sidelines. Get in the game.
And, my parents who as you know from reading previous posts, found some strength too. The broken wrist and all that came after it moved them slightly out of denial and thankfully made them realize, I'm doing ok. Lesson #10: Reality is what you believe it to be.
So out of all that came some good. I could do without the ugly 3" scar that came along with this. But I am grateful for the lessons it reminds me of.
