We have not lost faith,
but we have transferred it from God
to the medical profession.

George Bernard Shaw

January 14. Tuesday.

Pain 7
Mobility 4

The nurse really didn’t have to tell me that the skin had grown over the stitches and she was going to have to “dig in a bit” to get them out. She was amazed however that it had only been 2 weeks since the surgery, apparently I am a healer. I lay face down on the gurney, holding on to the headboard rails as she poked around, pulled and cut, all the time making small talk about how my surgery had been. Needless to say, since I had driven myself, hobbled from my car to the fracture clinic and stood around for half an hour waiting for the doctor to see me I wasn’t really in much of a conversation mood. Strangely, as she pulled each stitch from me, my mood seemed to magically improve. Nicole had promised to be there for emotional support, and didn’t even think it was gross that this woman was slicing and dicing me with a scalpel while pulling on my loose threads like an old pair of jeans. So they bandaged me up again and proceeded to parade me in front of the doctor, the physiotherapist and what seemed like anyone who wanted to poke their head around the curtain. It was all over in a flash, and we left with a referral to a physiotherapist in the medical building next door and an assurance that I could start walking gently, and that next week I could finally start to exercise again. (Of course, at this point I had no idea I would be back the next day to get the remaining stitch taken out… Unbelievable that someone could miss one, just unbelievable) Not that I was told I could hit the weights, but rather that I needed to start very light, make sure my back is supported and not to do any pulling exercises for the time being. I was also told that I would probably benefit from Electronic Muscle Stimulation or EMS in order to attempt to improve the atrophied muscle in my right leg which at this point is still all but useless when it comes to anything except a smooth level surface.

So I survived the journey into the snake pit, and although most people may have wanted to go and see their coworkers, there was no chance in hell that I was going to subject myself to being in the same department with those people until I was absolutely ready. Not necessarily because they are about as irritating as a weeping rash, but rather because I can’t muster the strength to explain to everyone over and over again how I am and what I am doing and when I will be back and so on and so on.. ugh.

I have to say also that it was great to see Nicole during the day again, and I know that it might sound strange to some that I miss her, it is true. There is a big difference between seeing someone at home after they have been working all day and you haven’t and struggling to work through the work week together, providing humour and strength to each other. I don’t miss work at all, but I miss working with Nicole every day. (That and the fact that I don’t trust her car in this snow we are having.)