Wednesday, February 23, 2011

i love you but i leave you, i don't want you but i need you

And despite my crossed fingers and hope for the best, I enter week seven of injured wrist-itude with a new, equally neon-coloured cast.

I saw my arm for approximately 3.4456 seconds. I got to scratch one dry spot. Then it was back into fibreglass, at least for another two weeks, til the poking and prodding and testing of our marvellous health care system can figure out wtf is wrong with me. Because apparently, apparently, there might not have been a fracture at all. But: "Oh, scaphoids are pretty hard to tell my dear" and "I'm about 90% sure that it was fractured" and "Well you're still having a lot of pain right there, so there must be something"

No shit.

I'm getting a little tired of guessing games when it comes to my health. I want my arm back, I want to go back to my full-time job, I want to be able to shower without a freakin' plastic bag having to join me (plastic bags, unlike other people, do not make good shower companions)...I am just frustrated at having been injured, and even more frustrated that this medical system has been jerking me around for SEVEN WEEKS.

Either it is fractured, or it isn't. If it isn't, figure out what's wrong. Being given guesses isn't good enough for me anymore, and when an xray tech brings me to tears because the pain is excrutiating as she's trying to get my wrist in the right spot for a (count it) fourth set of radioactive pictures of my freaking arm, I think it's a PRETTY GOOD SIGN that somethin' ain't right.

I'm not asking the hospital to know everything. I'm just asking for some answers, and maybe, maybe just a little less condescension in their tones when they talk to me. I'm not 2, I'm 22, and I know my own body. When something hurts, it hurts. Help me figure out why?

....In the meantime, I'm going back to my basically-pretty-happy attitude. Sometimes you just need a good rage post!

I leave you with a photo of my new bright green roommate--I promise I'm laughing about this all sometime tomorrow. Especially my guinea pig status.

Much love, everyone who sat through that <3

Jmart out!

Sunday, February 13, 2011

there's no guarantee, that leavin' town's gonna set us both free

So, I'm still broken.

This wrist baloney makes typing blogs incredibly difficult, but I've decided to not let it get me and to keep on blogging just the same. Unfortunately, because blogging is so sucky with this broken arm thing, I won't be posting any deep, meaningful rants. Instead, today I thought I'd share my list of top 10 things that are next-to-impossible-to-do when your arm is casted from elbow to fingers, including your thumb.

I don't know if it's ever possible to truly be ready for this, but here goes:

10. Paint your nails. My left hand's look good, my right hand's cannot be completed. Fail.

9. Bra hooks. I now understand why males complain about their difficulty.

8. Buttons. Buttons are the devil when you can't use both opposable thumbs--good thing I work in retail.

7. Zippers. See above comments. Retail's AWESOME.

6. My dishes. When a cast cannot get wet, dishes become incredibly tough to deal with. It's really freakin' hard to tape my arm into a plastic bag in order to be able to just wash my dishes. And even harder to try and cut myself OUT of it.

5. Shower. The plastic bag rant applies here, too, only add in trying to wash one's hair with only one hand--squeezing out shampoo, conditioner and body wash is so not as easy as you'd think.

4. Do my hair. My hair is short. It requires a straightener, product and teasing half the time to get it the way I want. Teasing cannot occur with one hand. And I've burnt my forehead twice with my straightener. I'm awesome.

3. Cleaning. Not that I actually enjoy cleaning ever anyway, but it becomes even more of a pain in the ass when you've only got one hand that can actually grasp stuff. Carrying clothes basket? Nay. Folding clothes? Not a chance. Working the dustpan and broom together to sweep my floor? I suspect it's pretty comedic to watch. Someone should film.

2. Sleeping. I am a deep sleeper, but I also move aorund a ton. As a result, I have rolled over and bashed myself in the arm and/or face with my cast. Also, my wrist aches like a motherbitch a lot at night, making it hard to sleep. Rock on, broken scaphoid, rock on.

Annnnnndddd finally:
1. Playing video games. So it turns out you actually need both your thumbs to play video games. Including Super Mario Bros Wii. And Wii boxing. And Guitar Hero. I'm already pro (literally) at Wii Baseball and Tennis...I'm running out of things to play.

Honourable mention goes out to scratching hard-to-reach itches, including those that happen underneath the cast. Apparently you're not supposed to stick stuff down your cast to reach those itches--who knew?!

While my list seems bitter (okay, it is a little bitter), I hope you managed to get a chuckle or two out of it. And if you didn't...come watch me try and accomplish any of those tasks. I can guarantee you'll get yourself a laugh then!!

Thanks to my dear friend Lee, who helped me out big time this weekend and was the inspiration for this here blog post.
Til next time, pals, I leave you with this vision of my lovely, construction-cone coloured, casted broken arm, and how I really feel about it:

Take care, blogosphere. Stay alert, stay safe (and in one piece!!)

Monday, February 7, 2011

you don't wanna be here in the future, so you say the present's just a pleasant interruption to the past

Oh man

I've been MIA for exactly a month.

I feel terrible, but I have legitimately good reasons, blogosphere. They include such exciting things as working a week of 5:30 am start-time kitchen shifts (which were, as you may suspect, pretty terrible); having someone in my building *attempt* to break into my place (but they didn't, and they've been dealt with, and I'm totally fine); getting into a minor, albeit also scary, fender bender with my beloved Mia the Kia (she's okay, just a little bent license plate) and breaking my left wrist in one of the stupidest, and klutziest incidents of my life (I was late for work, wiped out in my kitchen and am now willing my left scaphoid to heeeeaaaalll).

Of course, I make it sound like I've spent a month having an awful time, but that isn't true. With the bad always comes the good, and in that month I've had a lot of good- meals with friends, nights at my favourite bars, "Charlie Sheen" weekend with some of my favourite people in the entire world, drinks and laughs and dancing...All the important stuff.

It really makes the whole 'bad' crap seem like it hardly exists--which is awe-some.

So in short, I've been off living life. I gotta say, I really think the first month-ish of 2011 has seen me fail some of my resolutions (broken wrists are hardly taking better care of myself, after all), but really, really rock some of the others: in particular, the whole appreciating everything I have thing.

As a result, I just want to say thanks. Those of you who worried for me, with me, and about me. Those of you who made me laugh, made me feel better when I cried, who kept me fed and helped me with my dishes, and drove six hours to see me and drink with me, and those of you who just consistently check in. Without you, I'd have probably just curled up in bed after the break in attempt and called 2011 another waste. But it's not...and I love you all so, so much.

Let's just hope that the remainder of the year has a few less accidents- car, kitchen and otherwise.

Til next time, blogosphere.