With the help of friends and the grace of God

I am seriously thinking about cancelling January 12.  Yes, every year from now on.  Why should February be the only month with a flexible number of days?  You may wonder what brought this on.  Well, let me explain.  Who would believe a quick trip to the library to pick up a book would end up in a trip to Emergency? That is exactly what happened to me on that fateful day, January 12, last year. I fell. No, not on the obvious place. Why fall on ice when you can trip over your own two feet in a public library?  What a place to fall.  In the public eye began the endless saga of a shattered wrist.

Fortunately, I was not alone.  My companion, as shocked as was I, drove me to Emergency in a nearby hospital. Nine hours, four x-rays, three casts, four attempts to set the bone later, the doctors were finally sufficiently satisfied to send me home.  My friend, who had stayed at my side throughout the night, drove me home at 3 am. What was to be a quick trip to the library to pick up a book ended up being a painful nine-hour stint.

At a follow up appointment, I met a wonderful orthopaedic doctor. By March, he decided my wrist had healed well enough to start physio therapy. During the next several months I was fortunate to see a very competent physio therapist at regular intervals. At home, I followed her regiment of daily exercises, and occasionally saw my doctor. However, by August it became evident that in order to regain greater mobility with less pain, I required surgery.

After what seemed like an endless wait, the long-awaited phone call came. On December 3, I was to have surgery which would hopefully result in increased mobility and no more pain. After the surgery, back for physio I went. Now, thanks to the skills of my wonderful doctor and therapist, I am no longer in pain! And what’s more, I have regained a considerable amount of mobility in my wrist. However, as you can imagine, daily exercises are still necessary to strengthen my emaciated muscles and further increase the mobility of my wrist.

You would think this is the end of my saga. Well, think again.  Would you believe, exactly a year later, in the evening of January 12, I find myself back in the same Emergency.  No, not after another fall.  Severe abdominal pain brought me there this time.  After several hours of probing and poking the problem was tentatively diagnosed, and I was sent home with antibiotics and pain pills. This time, recovery took only a few days and thankfully I needed neither surgery nor therapy. 

So, can you see why I am seriously thinking about cancelling January 12 next year?  No more visits to Emergency! No, thanks. Two years in a row is more than enough. So, what did I learn from all of this?  If nothing else, this past year has taught me to be a little bit more patient with myself and more aware of the kindness and generosity of those with whom I live.  Always, there was someone there to help this ‘one-armed bandit’ in one way or another. I also discovered how I, predominantly right-handed, could do so much, not only with just one hand, but with my left hand. During those long months, despite ongoing pain in my wrist, I lived life to the full, adjusting to what, for a while, became my ‘new reality’.  We never know what life throws at us, but I learned anew how, with the help of friends and the grace of God, seemingly insurmountable challenges can be overcome. What a valuable lesson to learn.

- Sister Loretta Hagen, csj