I finally went to the doctor yesterday. I probably should have gone sooner, I know, but honestly I felt like I was doing so great for having an arm in a sling. The pain was tolerable, and I’ve figured out a way to do just about everything I need to one-handed, if a bit slow and sluggish. It’s an elbow, for crying out loud. Doesn’t it only have one way to heal?
I went to the clinic at my parents’ insistence and figured I could get a time frame on when I can get back on the wall, if nothing else. I assumed the doctor would be dazzled by the progress I’ve made in a couple weeks, and encourage me to give it time and rest more but not have much more insight.
I passed every test, until she asked me to straighten my arm. It wasn’t happening. “You need to get x-rays,” she said.
So today I got my first x-rays ever, for my worst injury to date (which is saying a lot since there isn’t even a fracture that I’m aware of). It was a quick visit, but not as fun as going out for ice cream. While I wait for the results, I’m trying not to envision a permanently damaged elbow or rare bone disease that could lead to surgery or amputation. Or worry that I really blew it by not going to the doctor in the first place.
I took advantage of the drive into town to check out the junior college and figure out where I’m supposed to go for a class I signed up for. It starts next week and I don’t know anything about the campus or where to find the class, where to even park for that matter. I ended up driving around aimlessly for a while, feeling overwhelmed and old and wondering why the whole thing is intimidating the heck out of me when I’ve already been to school.
Then I thought about having a break down last night and feeling self conscious walking around with a bum arm, and throwing another pity party for myself because I’ve had half a dozen conversations about my “limited range of motion” in the last 24 hours and really miss climbing.
And then I got this.
I almost never buy random things for myself except candy and beer. Today, a week and a half into physical recovery, I knew I needed a little boost. An orchid was a weird choice, since I manage to kill nearly every plant I come in contact with. I don’t know, it’s exotic and beautiful and decadent, and I’ve always wanted one, just because. It will be a good challenge for me to try to keep it alive for a few months. Or weeks.
But if I don’t, I’m not going to beat myself up over it.
