Well, my finger officially has a nickname – Frankenfinger. While he looks pretty good, he’s misbehaving when it comes to the swelling and usage, so until he earns his way back to my good graces, he’s stuck with the name.
When the saga started on June 26, things didn’t look so bad. I was lucky to not lose my finger, and really optimistic.
After I learned that I needed surgery and had most probably severed the nerve and maybe the tendon, I was terrified. What would happen if I didn’t regain feeling? What if I had severed the tendon? How would I crochet, or do transcription, or sand woodwork, or any of the bajillion things I use my right hand for? But I had to be optimistic that surgery would work.
July 10, just home
Surgery was on July 10th, and the whole process itself was fine and only took about an hour. I was completely out for it with IV anesthesia which was great because I didn’t have a “hangover” afterwards. I was left with a “flipper” as my friends nicknamed the hand, and it looked like it had lost a fight with an Oompa Loompa thanks to the beta-dine. And yes, I was stuck with that color skin for a good 5 days.
We learned very quickly that narcotics don’t affect me. I woke up the next morning at about 5 am crying the pain was so bad. Even with that, the most frustrating thing was my inability to do simple things. Right after surgery, the Man had to help me get dressed. When we went to an estate sale that Sunday to take my mind off the pain, he had to help me button my jeans. I couldn’t hook my own bra for almost two weeks. And forget opening packages, getting lids off, or carrying anything. I had never felt so vulnerable.
July 13th I got to see it unwrapped for the first time. The first thing I thought was, “Wow, I’m going to have a fabulous scar.”
They did exploration to see if I had hit the tendon – I did not – and they repaired the nerve and gave it “insulation” as it was explained to me. My mother also informed me it looked like I had tiny spiders on my finger.
All in all, I was told everything looked good, though, and I’d be out of work for a week. I think the hardest thing was keeping it elevated, especially when I returned to my office where I’m on a computer the majority of the day. Despite that, it started looking good and healing nicely. When I finally got the stitches out on the 20th, I was ecstatic.
A few days after getting stitches out (where I almost passed out) the purple surgical marker finally started coming off – YAY! But now begins the long wait. I have some feeling back which is an amazing thing in and of itself. Most of the side that I damaged now at least “tickles” if you touch it, but Frankenfinger is mostly unreliable. He sucks at holding a coffee cup, using chopsticks is a comedy routine, and I still have trouble turning on the car with him, but he’s getting there.
I went to my first therapy appointment this past Friday and they were able to remove a LOT of dead skin, the remaining scabbing, and gave me exercises.
So here he is today, new raw skin and all. I’d be more optimistic if the swelling were under control, but all in good time.