Being one-handed

Eighteen days ago I had surgery for osteoarthritis in my right hand.  The osteoarthritis was painful, but the surgery and recovery seem to be much worse.  The surgeon gave me a prescription for fifty-six pills of Oxycodone.  When we picked up the prescription, I said, "Fifty-six!!!!  This will last years!!!"  Ha,ha, WRONG!!!  My pills are just about gone; I feel compelled to add that the dosage was quite low and the instructions were to take 1 to 2 tablets every 4 to 6 hours for pain.  If you divide 56 pills by 18 days, you get 3.1 pills per day (just doing that math makes me want a pill).  The pain those first few days was rough; it would awaken me in the middle of the night.  I guess I am a wuss. 

 Worse, much worse, than the pain is the realization that I am pretty much helpless without my right hand...and I'm left-handed.  We don't think about all the everyday chores that require two hands.  For example, I have stopped wearing slacks that have zippers.  In a bathroom emergency (at my age, those are fairly frequent), slacks with elastic waistbands are recommended.  If I could, I would wear dresses and skirts and go commando; this is much less stressful until a strong breezes comes along.   

 I am struggling to type this.  I'm a pretty good typist when I have both hands...not so much with one.  Writing this blog helps with the "useless slug" factor of my recovery.  I feel pretty damned sorry for myself!!!   I can drive, but I have convinced myself that staying inside and close to the bathroom is best for me and everyone whose path I cross.  Thank God for my husband.  The poor man has suffered enough just by being married to me for 39 years.  Now he is cooking and cleaning and dealing with my intermittent bouts of debilitating self-pity.  He is more anxious than I am to get my hand back to full functionality.  He puts up with a lot.  I did notice, however, that he was a bit too excited about getting selected for jury duty.  Anything to get out of the house!!!  Poor guy.  

 Well, I feel better.  Time to go to the bathroom.  

Comments

  1. Marian BeamanMarch 12, 2020 at 1:44 PM

    You are the Erma Bombeck of comedo-tragedy. I would have laughed all the way through, but I didn't want to hurt your feelings. Tee-hee!

    I was prescribed painkillers when I had a cyst removed from my head. I took a few but they didn't do much good, maybe because they were Hydocodone, not Oxycodone. Oh, dear!

    Heal, my friend!
    And you will! :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. VictoriaMarch 15, 2020 at 5:43 AM

      Hi, Marian, sorry; I thought I had replied to you. Darned dysfunctional fingers!!! I can't thank you enough for your continued encouragement and support. You're a blogging rock star!!!

      Delete

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