I’ll spare you the goriest photo featuring stitches and bruises. I sent it to Octavia, but she a) is a doctor, and b) while I was still digesting my breakfast, sent me a photo of dead rat her cat had caught .
Once again the NHS did its stuff beautifully. I arrived at the fracture clinic and was despatched almost immediately to x-ray. Then a short wait and I saw the consultant, this time in shirt and tie and minus his blue scrubs. He was smiling. In moments he removed the smelly old plaster, and my new lizard skin was revealed. Though I suppose that should be old lizard skin. Suddenly the dinosaurs seem like near relatives. He showed me the x-rays; a sort of t-bar plate with lots of screws sticking out of it so it made me think of a broom. Everything seems to be healing nicely. He wouldn’t be drawn on whether I shall have a lump on my wrist or what degree of moevement I can hope to achieve in the future. But I am not a trained journalist for nothing. I asked a different question. Pushed, he said we could hope for 80-90% of my previous rotational skills.
Back to the waiting room where a small child looked worriedly at my exposed arm. There was a list of things to be done.
I had just about got my phone out when I was called to the plaster room. Ruth, the staff nurse who attended to me, is the daughter of a seamstress. It showed. I shouldn’t be surprised to see her fronting her own craft show on tv one of these days.
She had to make me a new cast; one that could be removed for physio, and maybe even in the bath. There was lots of wrapping, the cast was set with a crepe bandage around it to keep it in shape over my arm. Then the bandage was removed and the now rigid cast cut open. Ruth edged it with pink moleskin. I had to keep trying it on. We were joined by a first year nursing student called Golddust. When Ruth was happy with the result, she wrapped red tapes around it that fasten with velcro. These are to be my route to occasional moments of freedom to practise my exercises. Next stop, the physio.
But the consultant reappeared and said he wanted more x-rays. He’d been looking again, and there was something he wasn’t sure about. By now I was feeling like an old hand in the fracture clinic. I navigated my way round to x-ray, gave my paper to the right person and took a seat.
And back to the consultant again. This time he called me just as I had opened my book. It seems they are not altogether happy with the position of one of the pins. It’s not entirely clear in the x-rays, but it may be nudging the bone. In which case it will have to come out. Another op in other words. Oh well, one step at atime.
Rory the physio took me through my baby exercises and helped me put my cast back on. I have to go back in three weeks.
So far, so good. And now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to do the washing up and then have a twenty minute rest.