It’s been a week since the
surgery on my wrist; I’ll be back at work, in the office starting today.
TBH, I don’t know much I can do, but I sort of feel like I need to show my face
to remind people that they should still sign off on my pay checks. I joined a
conference call on Friday, but I couldn’t take notes (no writing at all with my
wrist, and pecking on a keyboard doesn’t feed the note-taking bulldog), and the
Microsoft Lync conference system served up the worst audio since the old half-duplex
days, so I didn’t get much out of that.
I’m still unable to eat
anything that involves cutting; yesterday I cooked up some wild rice to have
with grilled chicken breast, but I shredded the latter after grilling it. Whacking
up the mushrooms and shallots to go in the rice was…interesting. I’m glad there’s
no one around to watch me eating.
Interestingly, this
happened to the hand that had the IV feed—don’t think I’ve ever seen bruising
this bad, but it doesn’t involve a lot of pain.
In fact, I’ve not needed
to crack open the Percocet—I take some pain meds as a preemptive strike before
going to bed, because it turns out that hitting the thumb in either direction
at night will jerk you out of sleep in an New York instant. But mostly the past
week has been a lot of slow movement and realizing how much stuff of daily life
requires having an opposing thumb on my dominant hand.
Tomorrow I see the
surgeon for the post-op check. I think he’s going to swap out this cast for
something that’ll stay on for a few weeks. I’m grateful that so far it’s been a
matter of inconvenience, and I’m looking forward to steady improvement.
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