frustration

I should be in bed, letting my poor arm heal, yet here you find me, hours away from the new year, eating a cracker, drinking a G&T, and blogging one-handed. I'm feeling frustrated because of the arm, and also a little angry: it seems a neat summation of my year, actually. Looking back at my blog, it appears to have started with all good intentions, then fizzled out gradually. Sometimes I wonder if this isn't a summation of my life as a whole - frustration, anger, promise, disappointment.
However, it would be wrong to say that I actually feel anything negative in general right now. Instead, I feel, well, just feelings: a desire to wallow in the now, and exult in the ability to do so. Yes, there are worries and difficulties ahead, but I know that they are surmountable. I know that there are still many weeks of pain and inconvenience ahead of me, yet pain is a thing of temporary duration ultimately, as are, bluntly, all those sensations we either cherish or seek to avoid. Simply what is now is what needs to be lived through: And knowing that that which pains me will soon be past, and that which pleasures me is either now, or will be soon, or glows in my mind, how can I do anything other than exult?

Dealing with it.

At the fracture clinic, the doctor poked the lump that hurt, twisted my arm one way till it hurt, then twisted it the other way to see how much it hurt that way, nodded approvingly, and said 'keep the sling on, and come back in a couple of weeks and we'll see how it's getting on. By the way, if you start hearing your elbow go 'click', get to A&E; we'll need to put a pin through the fracture to hold it all together'.
By a pin, he meant 'we're going to shove your elbow in a metal halo to immobilize it, then whack a titanium bolt through all those lovely nerves that pass over the outside of the joint, then leave it sticking out for a month.' This, of course, has had the effect on me of nervously listening out for every single crackle and pop my whole bloody arm might give. I don't want my arm out of action for any longer than necessary. As I have found out, it isn't just my arm that has been rendered of limited use - it's had an impact on everything I do.
Well, I hear you cry, so what's new? After all, it's not as if it's something that doesn't occur on a daily basis to thousands of people. However, it's the first time it's happened to me, so I can only talk from my own experience. Starting with what I'm doing right now, I have a limited range of mobility and dexterity in my left hand, meaning that I'm doing most of the typing with my right. Next, I keep waking up around half past four in the morning, my upper arm and shoulder aching from the position I need to keep them in to keep the elbow supported and comfortable: Also, I have to take the sling off every now and then during the day to flex my arm as much as possible. And then, of course, I need to deal with the further limitations in everyday life. I can't cycle for six weeks to two months, meaning my main source of exercise has disappeared. I can't cook, or rather I can't do anything that involves chopping, dicing, holding stuff firmly, twisting (unless I use my legs), or anything above boiling stuff. I'm beginning to wonder how I'll get to work and pick up the kids on a thursday afternoon, seeing as I can't drive.
See? It's a whole world of fun. Yet despite all this, I'm well aware it could have been much worse, and it makes me wonder how people with serious injuries cope.

three pics.

Nur, Sean and Angus; Branch and lamplight on a very foggy night; and a pen which appeared from God knows where that I found in my coat pocket.

I don't half choose my moments...

you find me, less than half my Crimbo shopping done, workplace stuff still to do, dosed up to my eyeballs on paracetamol, codeine and G&T, with my left arm in a sling and a fractured radius. I came off my bike this morning: I was going downhill at full pelt, when the TOSSBUBBLE driver in front of me, decided to brake suddenly to let someone driving a similar Chelsea Tractor into the entrance to the posh nursery training college. I braked, but my rear wheel locked and skidded on a greasy patch, and off I came, all my weight landing on my elbow. I would have kicked myself for falling in such an amateur way, had it not been for the fact I was in shock and screaming agony. Well, it could have been worse - at least the driver in the Chelsea Tractor behind me actually deigned to not run me over. Also, a passerby gave me a hand, and eventually drove me to the local surgery - thanks Ruth. After a suitable bit of bellowing on my behalf - by now, it was REALLY hurting - the practise nurse told me to go to A&E. Wonderful.
Three hours later found me in a sling at home. Just what I need for the festive season.
And yet, strangely I don't feel that pissed off, that frantic or that miserable: I don't have any little voice in my head screaming 'Why Me?', futilely. It just is, and it could have been worse, and I will get better. Of course, it's bloody inconvenient, but I'll work around it.
Anyway, festive greetings to all, and Eid Mubarek!

Really Stupid Things Said On TV, an occasional series:

...on Breakfast on BBC this morning, a debate about the increased moving away from Christianity at Christmas, and in particular some schools are now not doing nativity plays in case it offends people of other faiths. In amidst the torrent of rage emailed in by viewers with too little to do in the morning, there was this little gem:
'Primary schools should be holding traditional Christmas activities and the meaning of Christmas. After all, the nativity play has been held for over 2,000 years.....'
Someone needs to do a bit more in-depth reading, methinks.