You Don’t Let Me Do Anything Fun!

Since I initially dislocated my finger, I have had a hard time behaving and tried to do things that I probably shouldn’t have. I should probably tell you that I am left-handed and it is the little finger on my left hand.

Broke It Again

Eight days after my initial fall I went to the store for milk and hit my splinted finger on the refrigeration unit trying to get the milk out.  I hit it hard enough that it dislocated again.  I almost sat down on the floor of the store and cried.  I thought to myself, it’s a good thing I go in to see the doctor for my followup tomorrow.

IMG_0870My little finger was x-rayed again.  The doctor came in to look at the x-rays and said, “Tomorrow is the day I do surgery.  Schedule an appointment.”   Aside from dislocating my finger again, I had broken it and torn the tendon.

Into surgery I went.  My finger was pinned.  The tendon was sewn.  I had wonderful pain pills and was now in trouble for not behaving myself in the first place.  Two of my daughters have been carefully watching out for me.  They don’t want me to break it a 3rd time.

Just Trying To Be Helpful

The day after hurting my self the first time I thought I would help clear the table.  Put the milk in the refrigerator, put away the salad dressing, just little things.  My oldest daughter is standing in the kitchen (they had come for dinner) and gave me the look.  She took the milk and told me to go sit down.  I say that I am just trying to help.  My daughter-in-law, who is doing dishes, turns around and tells me to go sit down.  I roll my eyes and sigh.  Daughter-in-law puts hand olittle-boy-holding-stop-signn hip and says, “Don’t you roll your eyes at me!”  Oldest daughter starts to laugh.  Mother says, “You tell her.”  I go sit down grumbling to myself.  Sitting in my chair with my arms folded I say, “You never let me do anything fun!”  I get a chorus of, “No.”  We all laugh.

After my surgery it was worse.  Every time I got up to do something I would get “the look”.  When I tried to be helpful I was told to go sit down.  Finally, Daughter-in-law threatens to call Oldest daughter if I don’t behave.  Oldest daughter can be very bossy.  With some grumbling and a lot of frustration I comply.

Just A Little Longer

It has been four weeks since the first injury and I have three weeks to go.  My finger has wreaked havoc on my stress and anxiety levels.  I have had to deal with the frustration and feelings of guilt.  Why do I feel guilty?  Because I cannot do what I need to do.  I am able to crochet now that my stitches are out and I have a short splint.  This is very good since that is how I handle my anxiety and stress.  I have been able to sew.  This is also good since my youngest daughter is so skinny and tall I cannot find her a pair of pants anywhere.  I can type, though with difficulty. Since I am a finger short I make a lot of mistakes.

Little Things, Big Frustrations

It has amazed my how much my activities have been curtailed by just having my little finger in a splint.  Any strain on my hand and my finger hurts.  A lot.  I can’t make a bed.  I can’t do dishes.  I can’t get it wet which makes showering interesting.  I am constantly hitting it on the blinker stick when I’m driving.  It gets caught on everything.  If I’m not careful it gets bumped on just about everything.

I have had to find new ways of doing some things.  I have had to not do some things and rely on others.  I have gotten a lot of practice being ambidextrous.  I am very much looking forward to getting my splint off and having the use of my finger again.

I guess it is a lot like life.  It’s the little things that cause us the most frustration.  Starting the car and the gas light comes on.  Doing dishes and dropping and breaking a glass in the sink.  Poring milk and slopping it onto the table.  Losing your keys.  Getting dressed, realizing you forgot to do laundry and you have no clean clothes.  It is how we deal with the little frustrations that make the difference in life.  Do we let them get to us?  Or do we decide to shrug our shoulders, laugh and go on?