cybergram's posterous

 

Why I won't fall again
Being careful
People often tell me now, “Be careful on that bike!”  That’s easy.  I no longer have a bike.  I apparently never blogged about the evening of The Fall.  
Al came to get me and the bike where I was sitting on someone’s stoop with my cell.  He had arranged a car service to take us to NY Methodist Hospital.  I had had doctor appointments and x-rays there for years so I was in their system.  We took the bike home first and got to the emergency room about 4:00 pm.  Very few people were there.  I was given a pain killer,  X-rayed, and soon, Isa arrived.  
The PA who took care of us showed us the x-rays and called the bone surgeon on duty who instructed me to call back on Monday and make an appointment.  MONDAY!  This was Thursday afternoon.  Olivia had had the same problem last October: broken arm, no operating rooms available and surgery necessary.  
We three left the hospital and went home to wait for David to arrive.  Isa got a scissors to cut me out of my new pink t-shirt and I found a billowy blouse that covered me without my having to put The Arm thru a sleeve.
David called several times from the road and when he arrived in Brooklyn, he went shopping for the food we still needed for dinner.  Isa and Al started cooking, Tom and the girls arrived, and we all went to the terrace to eat Bah Mi and corn on the cob.  I was very happy.  The pain killers?  Maybe.  Or maybe it was just that I could sit and watch everyone talk and laugh.  Family time.  And the food was great. Weather perfect.
When it was time for the Cucinottas to leave, they took the bike with them [Are you sure you . . . ?  YES YES YES, I’m done biking!]  And I sent the helmet, which didn’t get bumped in the fall along, too.  So it’s gone.  Done.
And as soon as I go into the storage, I’ll get out my nearly new ice skates and they can go live with the Cucinottas, too.  I think they are Coco’s size.  
I watch other people bike down the street and feel a little sad.  I worry when they don’t have a helmet on.  I worry when I see cars coming up fast behind them.  In my Occupation Therapy room, there are four of us who had bike accidents.  But there are thousands on the street who ride safely.  I’m jealous, but not enough to get back on a bike.  Or a horse.
Olivia has the metal out of her arm now.  I can't wait to be rid of mine. Four more months.

 

The Arm goes on
After several years I finally learned that when you go to this site Posterous.com, if you click on READER in the Upper Right Corner, you can read stuff easily.  Forward and backward in time.  Makes life easier.
Today, I'm filling in lost time.

August 31, 2011
The good news is that I don’t have osteoporosis, only osteopenia.  For now, I can increase the amount of calcium citrate and vitamin D that I take each day and hope that is sufficient to build stronger bones.  A month from now I’ll have another blood test to see how things are going.  I’m sure it is helping me. My nails break less often; imagine how strong my bones are getting.  The Bone Man said that I should have been swimming since the stitches came out.  Helps flexibility, but maybe the resistance of the water helps strengthen bones, too.  If this hurricane hits, the whole City will be swimming.
I’m happy to hear that the City and State governments are taking Hurricane Irene seriously, that they have evacuation plans and are storing strawberry pop tarts.  I haven’t had a hurricane since we were in Florida in about 1980.  All those cousins in Grandpa and Grandma’s house, sleeping on the floor as the atmospheric pressure dropped, the wind picked up and Grandpa said, “It’s not going to come here!  It never comes here!”  He had decided to sleep in the screened-in Florida room.  The next morning, he said “OI!  That was some wind!”  The storm just brushed by Mt. Dora, but he was impressed by the power.  
This is potentially much more dangerous, especially because so few people know what to expect.  Going without electricity for a day, maybe three, being held inside in the dark,   limited food, that can be a problem for people.  Well, I do have another puzzle in the closet.
 

The Arm VIII
The Arm VII
Monday 8/7/11
The Arm wants to get back on the team.  It tries to pick up on old, familiar tasks, such as reaching for things -- cups, glasses, books, clothes -- some of which are just too heavy.  It now moves more freely in the socket so I can let it push a light switch, turn on a faucet, try buttons. Funny how that feels so important, noteworthy.  A marker of success.  

I still wear the sling when I go outside, not for support but to prevent The Arm from getting too aggressive.   
I was to have a brace with dials that would help to slowly extend my reach.  It was late coming back from the manufacturer, and when it did come, it didn’t fit.  I think because I had regained some weight, but it may have been poorly made.  They remeasured me and sent it back, but it was more than another week before it got to the hospital, and then no one was available to fit it.  In the meantime, I had reached close to 100% extension on my own.  The OT said she didn’t know what exercises to do with me when I came for an appointment, and she agreed that the brace wouldn’t help much at this point.  So I cancelled it.  [We’ll see who gets billed.]  I also cancelled the last two OT sessions this week.

Monday, August 15, 2011
Today I had another ex-ray and the surgeon checked my range of motion.  I’m now cleared for weight-bearing exercises!  One pound!  Two pounds!  I still need the stretching exercises I do on my own 2 or 3 times a day, but there is something to look forward to:  building muscle mass!  
Last month when the weather was so hot, over 100 degrees for days on end, I coped by pulling an old 1,000 piece puzzle from the closet.  It was one of those sweet 19th century pictures of snowy streets, kids on sleighs, gay folks carrying Christmas gifts to a party in a house with snow on the roof and smoke coming from chimneys.  It felt cooling to look at it.  The dining room table became Puzzle Central.  Of course, I hardly had the outer pieces put together  when Al said it was time to eat.  So I did what Dave, Isa and I did many Christmases ago in Washington.  We worked on a puzzle until the turkey was ready to eat, and then covered it with the tablecloth and data down to dinner.
The problem was that I don’t work as fast as three people.  The table cloth was lumpy with hidden puzzle pieces for two weeks.  But last night, with Al’s help, the last few pieces were put in place, admired, and broken down.  The puzzle is on its way to the Goodwill Store.  The heatwave has passed.  
I must get back into the closet and see if there are any puzzles about deserts.  We had over 7 inches of rain yesterday and the plants are gasping for breath.  A bit humid here.  And the clouds still look threatening.  
 

The Arm VI
I'm getting back to emails and searches.  After I last posted, Al got interested in a 5-part series on Pride and Prejudice.  It was well done and he streamed them all. Suddenly, his IMac display showed only 1/2 the screen, the other half was a giant multicolor bar code. We could only see 1/2 of any document and couldn't move it far enough to the side to see the other half.  We researched solutions by searching on the IPad.  We searched Apple.  We called Apple.  Finally we packed that sick baby up and took it to Manhattan to show it to someone at the Apple Genius bar.  Tough break, but after 4 years, the screen/display is 1/2 dead, too expensive to fix, and so we bought a new IMac.  
It's very nice.  Very nice.  Now Al is streaming all of the old tv series Battlestar Gallactica.  
I'm doing my exercises on the living room floor while watching the Science Channel on TV. Between exercises, I check Facebook to see what Isa and Dave are doing in France.
Here is the last post before the demise of the old IMac:

7/23  Last Wednesday the therapist gave me more exercises for moving The Arm so that I could put my right hand behind me on my left buttock. Wow, that smarted!  Another challenge was to put the right hand behind my head as though I were brushing my hair. That was a little easier but a stretch. Since then, I’ve been stretching for at least 1/2 hour 3 times a day, using the ice pack, taking my painkillers.
Today was a big day. A shower! The warm water was wonderful. I put a little shampoo in my right hand and without thinking about it, The Arm moved to my head to work the shampoo into my hair. Both arms worked together! The Arm wasn't strong but it did some of the work, without my thinking about it. What a great surprise!  It isn’t that I didn’t enjoy the shampoos that Al gave me over the kitchen sink, but this do-it-yourself stuff is rewarding whether you are a two year old or a broken Grannie  I got out of e shower,dried off, and iced The Arm. A reward for it's volunteer efforts on behalf pf my hair and morale.

When David left Brooklyn for Kiev a the end of June he left behind a stack of t-shirts that either didn't fit him or didn’t fit into his suitcase.  I've been wearing them ever since. It was a challenge to learn to get them on and off by myself.  First The Arm hangs at rest as the right sleeve is pulled up over it. Then I tug the shirtt over my head and rearrange it.  When the shirt is in place I can maneuver my healthy left arm into the sleeve. Ta Da!  More little victories.    Thanks for the clothes, Dave!
 

The Arm V
Progress
7/22/11
Things have progressed a lot since the first day of the break.
That first night and several following I slept in Al's big brown leather lounger. We put a sheet over it, then I sat on the arm to slowly lower my butt into the seat and get my legs facing forward, feet aginst the leg rest, The Broken Arm hanging at my side. With the chair half-way back, The Arm could dangle free it it's socket. With enough painkiller I could sleep. When sleep wouldn't come I plugged into the I-pad to listen to a lecture series Al downloaded from I-Tunes U. The lectures are on ancient Greek history by Donald Kagan of Yale University.  I listen intently to his description of what and why in the rise and fall of Athens, Sparta, the Persian Empire, and finally doze off while Professor Kagan carries on through the night.  I am now familiar with the first half of all his lectures and look forward to staying awake for the full lectures one day.  These lectures are fascinating on the subject of what a democracy might look like and on the causes of war. I recommend them highly and will send you the link if you would like to pursue the wisdom of "the more things change, the more they stay the same." The current debt ceiling debate sounds to me like the Peloponnesian Wars Redux.  
 

The Arm IV
7/22/11
Occupational therapy. What occupation requires these exercises?  Lie on back, move arms up and down; move hands behind head, with elbows in the air and lower elbows to the floor; lie on the floor and move yours arms as though you are on a snowy field and making angel wings.  They are all painful to do, but getting a wee bit easier.  It's not just the broken arm, but the torn rotator cuff that needs to heal. Meanwhile the movement must continue, three times a day, every, every day.
Last Friday the stitches were removed and the incision was covered with a thin ladder of tapes to hold it firm. On Wednesday, the therapist removed the tape and started working creams into the scar. To me, it looks pretty good.  It’s healing.  

Al and I had dinner with Isa and the family last week. Olivia and I will have to compare scars to see whose is longer, after the tape is gone. Olivia ( and Coco) are both climbing now and I had hoped to join them one day. That will be a few months off, but it is the goal that keeps me working hard three times a day. I want full mobility and enough strength to go back to climbing. I still have my harness. I still love the vertical challenge.

At the last OT session, Eugenia, my warm-handed therapist, was musing about the differences among her patients: some make little progress, others, me, improve quickly. I was going to the gym regularly and doing some yoga stretching at home before this break. I know how to stretch, how to breathe. But Al thinks, and I agree that having a goal, a desire to be whole again, is a major factor. It also helps that Al has had OT himself after an accident and is here to encourage and cajole me in the exercises. He goes with me to each OT session, almost an hour each way, and encourages me. He helps me with the cold pack when I’m done. That support means so much and it keeps me going when I only want to stop and cry.  I do feel sorry for myself. 

So my flexibility is increasing, use of painkillers dropping to near zero.  Now if the weather would cool a bit, maybe I could go outside for a walk!
This week my sister is in Nashville for a reunion with her kids and grand-kids.  We were planning to join them but cancelled the tickets. I struggle to ride the subway or bus and can't imagine being in an airport, much less, on a plane. Would I be faithful in my exercises or would I drop it all in favor of a  visit to Dollywood!  Rather than risk of pain or loss of mobility, I stay home and wait for photos of the birthday celebration. When I do go to Nashville,  I want to arm wrestle with Elvis's ghost.  
 

The Arm III
7/19/11
Today I got a call from the people who will retrieve their passive motion chair.  When I sat in this chair [An electric chair. That was a first!] with The Arm strapped in, the mechanism slowly raised and lowered it.  All I had to do was to stay awake.  It raised that sorry limb from about 40 degrees to 100 degrees.   I began to increase the angle by 5 or 10 degrees a day.  At the end of two weeks I had an extension of 165 degrees, which Al recalled the surgeon set as my goal.  That meant that after two weeks I could return the chair [not covered by Medicare, by the way] and move on to self-motivated exercises.

I also got a call from Titus Rich, who had scheduled me for a Lemon Law arbitration in early July.  I had to cancel that because of too being doped up to travel to the Bronx and listen to the complaints of the car owner and the dealer. Your "check engine" light did what? But it’s wonderful to hear from friends and be able to talk with them.  It wasn’t like that was at first; someone would call, but it was too hard to stay alert and answer their kind questions. I only wanted to sleep.  Several women from our Sage Writers Group that meets at the YMCA called, too.  I have missed all the July meetings.  I miss their company.  I miss the gym.  

On the advice of the therapist, who blanched when I asked if she thought I should go to the gym and keep my abs and legs exercised, I froze my gym membership until I can participate fully.  The Arm wants to move on its own, but has limited extension sideways, and almost no strength.  Time.  It takes time.  
 

The Arm II
7/15/11 
Sometimes I cry
Today the stitches were removed.  I was sure I would be able to go home and shower, shampoo my hair.  But no.  There are small bandages covering, protecting the incision.  A little ladder of adhesives over the scar.  These will fall off is a week or so, they told me.  Then I can shower.  Well, I could now if I cover the wound with saran wrap and keep it dry.  A hassle, but I’ll try it tomorrow.

At the doctor's office I first had to fill in forms, copy insurance documents, etc. again.  Then they took three xrays of The Arm and shoulder.  I could see the screen across the room.  There is so much metal in there it looks like they inserted a jungle gym on the top of my arm bone.  

Finally, the stitches were pulled out and I went to get fitted for a brace that I think is like the one Olivia had for her broken arm.  It gently forces the arm to a new position. Megan from Ohio, who made the cast of The Arm got a good white plaster copy of it.  She took measurements for the brace to come.  When it is made, I will use it three times a day. 

I got another appointment to see the surgeon next month and they released me for OT.

We had an hour so before OT, so Al took me to a little place on York Street and bought me a Danish; he got a croissant.  Nice quiet morning treat. It was ‘real people’ behavior.  A thing that people who aren’t afraid for their limbs do every day.

At OT, there were too many people there at the same time.  Some emergencies, including a very small baby, just a few months old had come in. So the head of the OT department took me in hand, and with the new prescription from the surgeon for unlimited movement, we did new exercises.  I no longer need the passive movement chair.  I’m on my own with a stick to raise and lower and move side to side. And printouts of the new exercises.  Three sets of 20 reps!  20!  They tell me I’m doing well, but this is really hard. I want to get the movement in the shoulder joint, I do deep breathing, I relax the shoulders.  What else can I do?  It hurts but the alternative is no flexibility in the right shoulder.

When we got home I was tired and slept deeply for 3 hours this afternoon.  My home exercises didn’t start until about 8 p.m., and after another Tylenol  Al is a bit sympathetic but insists I work.  He nags me to keep my elbow straight.  He praises when I get near to what the motion ought to be.  This just isn’t a fun way to spend a summer day.
 

The Arm
The Arm     July 9, 2011

Two days of OT.  Then yesterday, I was wired for an EEG which is the real pain in the neck/ arm and skull.  The contacts are so closely bound that they poke into my flesh.  That was yesterday; the bandages have loosened a bit.
The homework on OT continues.  I practice keeping my shoulders relaxed and my shoulder blades closer together. The shoulders must not be allowed to encroach on the chest, trying to protect the broken arm.  They must fall back so the arm can swing freely in the socket.
In truth, I have less pain or discomfort if I am walking with my arms free.  But the exercises tend to create a protective mind set:  this hurts, pull in, protect.  I want to protect that sad arm and shoulder.
On the 24th of June David’s work in the WDC area was over and he was bussing up to NYC to spend some time with us.  Traffic was bad and he was delayed, but he kept in constant phone contact.
I had a little time before his arrival, but not enough to go to the gym, so I decided to try the bike, just around the neighborhood.  The front tire wasn’t completely full of air, but was quite full enough.  I thought.  It may have lost air while I pedaled.  I didn’t feel too confident on the street.  I’m always nervous about traffic behind me.  I rode north on Washington, and turned east on perhaps Lafayette and drove down to Cambridge, I believe.  Maybe a block further.  As I rode south and approached the red light at Gates, there were two cars, waiting at the light and I decided to move to the sidewalk using a driveway.  It was a bumpity, gravelly driveway.  I rode to the corner and turned right, but was wobbly.  Tired? Low air?  I reached out to balance myself and stop against the chain link fence there, but it collapsed, and me with it.  I was stunned.  I was able to sit, but all was wrong.  A young black man walking kitty corner saw me fall and called to be to see if I was alright.  Stupidly, I assured him I was; I just needed to rest a bit.  Then a young woman stopped and asked if I would like to use her icepack.  I was sure I didn’t need it and asked how she happened to have it.  She said she carries her lunch, and I was welcome to chill my arm.  How thoughtful.  Was she on her way TO lunch, home?  Done with lunch?  No matter, I didn’t need her.  Stupid again.
I caught my breath and tried to stand up, but it was hard.  My head didn’t feel right and I had trouble persuading my fingers to wrap around the handlebars.  What was wrong with them?  I tied again and moved the bike forward.  I must have gone some distance, because Al eventually found me a block away, resting on someone’s stoop.
I had retrieved my cell; thank god I remembered to charge it last night, and called him.  He was running errands but managed to get to me, get me and the bike home and then in a car to the emergency room. 
Bottom line:  we need friends and commuication devices.
11
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