My Right Hand
I’m sure it happened when I fell in the garage and broke my hip a few years ago. Many months later, my wrist bones seemed kind of movable: push one, and it would move a tiny bit. Then I developed burning lumps on the back of my hand.
A well-known specialist in the area declined to see me! Who ever heard of that? Now what do I do?
I logged on to the local medical board’s website to find a hand surgeon. The site gives you many options to search by specialty, so I searched under Hand Surgeon. Bupkus, as Seinfeld’s George Costanza would say.
“The Medical Board doesn’t list hand surgeons,” I whined to a plastic surgeon I had met. “Didn’t I hear that you have something to do with hands as well as facelifts?”
“Once in a while I’ve done skin grafts on bad burns on someone’s hand, but that’s not what you need here. I’ll find someone for you.”
“Can I ever get back to being a regular person?” I asked my cat son, Harvey.
“OK, you have an appointment with Dr. C the day after tomorrow,” the plastic surgeon told me in a phone call the next day!
As is usual in my experience with surgeons, I saw Dr C’s PA that first day. The usual questions, X-rays, and, on my part, dread. I’d just had major surgery and a long recovery from that broken hip — a month in rehab due to no weight on my leg — then a ton of outpatient physical therapy. Enough!
Was I surprised when the PA called the doctor in to see me right then instead of the usual ‘make another appointment.’
“Well, it’s not an emergency,” he said after checking my hand and reviewing the X-rays. “But it is urgent. We need to fix this as soon as possible. It’s a ruptured tendon.”
Argh! Another hospital. Probably more PT. Is this my future, being a permanent patient?
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“How about tomorrow?”
“What? That’s two days before Christmas?”
“I just had a cancellation, and we really need to take care of this.”
Argh! Who’d want to be in the hospital at Christmas? But I realized he really meant business; it was that urgent so, “OK.”
Christmas was a bit of a downer that year but my sister was visiting and was a big help, including taking me to the hospital the next day.
As usual, the operating room was cold. But when you’re asleep, who cares? Things went well, thanks to the wonderful Dr. C. Then, the usual follow-ups, various bandages and splints, and I was back in PT.
Did you ever hear of physical therapy for hands? Me either. But I had it, a lot of it. How many times did my PT have to request more sessions from the insurance company? Several, for sure. He said it was because it was such a complex surgery.
Thanks much to both my excellent hand surgeon and my hand therapist, I was soon out and about, my right wrist and hand securely encased in a hard cast. Of course, it was my right hand to make things a bit more complicated — like signing checks!
All is well now, at least with my hand. My ring and little fingers on my right hand share one tendon thanks to my fall. I rarely even realize it most days, although the two fingers prefer to move in unison. I like to blame my still less-than-wonderful handwriting on that missing tendon. Surely the problem isn’t due to spending most of my time typing on the computer!
I guess I’m a gimp, a clutz, unlucky, accident-prone, or something! A few years later, I needed more surgery; I had to find a foot surgeon. Easy in that case. They are listed on that medical website under Foot Surgeon!
After that foot incident, I sent a comment to the medical board about the ease of finding a foot surgeon compared to the hassle of finding a hand surgeon due to the ways they are listed. Am I odd, or does it make sense to you, too, that both should be listed similarly? Hand Surgeon, Foot Surgeon, right?
