Slowly, turtle, slowly
Oct. 7th, 2011 11:01 amSo this is a post about aches and pains. Mine. (Yours, too -- feel free to share.) Last Sunday, I went splat face-down on the sidewalk. My own damned fault, as I was wearing a pair of very, very full-cut pants that had already wrapped themselves around my legs once. I thought I'd fixed the problem by shortening them, silly me. Anyway, it was one of those falls that you just can't roll through. The good news is that I didn't hit my face. I thought I'd gotten away with only some abrasions on my palms and one shin. An hour later, my left wrist was aching. Two hours later, it was swollen and so painful I couldn't even move my fingers.
I was so good. (On the other hand, I really didn't have the option of just ignoring it.) The treatment for sprains is RICE (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation). Plus quantities of naproxen. Plus ranitidine to keep the naproxen from eroding my stomach lining. As a result, the wrist is healing speedily -- I can type, but no piano yet, or putting weight on it. It'll be a while before I can do downward-facing dog again. And oh, my, did it turn pretty colors, no only on my palm (small hematoma) and around the swollen areas, but the entire back of my hand. We've gone from technicolor sunset to sullen undercast. As the wrist becomes more comfortable, I am aware of all the lesser injuries -- a sort muscle here, a slightly swollen joint there -- that were insignificant/unnoticeable compared to the greater injury, but now require TLC.
I think one of the gifts of being older is that I've been through injuries this bad, not so bad, worse, before. I know my own tendencies (ignore it whenever possible; return to normal activities too soon -- I am hardly unusual in either!) and what they cost me in prolonged recovery time if I indulge them. I know that my older body takes longer to heal than it did when I was a sproutling. I know it's okay to ask for help, and to use gadgets and things for comfort measures. Taking anti-inflammatory medicine or medicine for pain is not a sign of weakness.
It also reminds me of how much I use my hands, and how important are the things I do with them.
I was so good. (On the other hand, I really didn't have the option of just ignoring it.) The treatment for sprains is RICE (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation). Plus quantities of naproxen. Plus ranitidine to keep the naproxen from eroding my stomach lining. As a result, the wrist is healing speedily -- I can type, but no piano yet, or putting weight on it. It'll be a while before I can do downward-facing dog again. And oh, my, did it turn pretty colors, no only on my palm (small hematoma) and around the swollen areas, but the entire back of my hand. We've gone from technicolor sunset to sullen undercast. As the wrist becomes more comfortable, I am aware of all the lesser injuries -- a sort muscle here, a slightly swollen joint there -- that were insignificant/unnoticeable compared to the greater injury, but now require TLC.
I think one of the gifts of being older is that I've been through injuries this bad, not so bad, worse, before. I know my own tendencies (ignore it whenever possible; return to normal activities too soon -- I am hardly unusual in either!) and what they cost me in prolonged recovery time if I indulge them. I know that my older body takes longer to heal than it did when I was a sproutling. I know it's okay to ask for help, and to use gadgets and things for comfort measures. Taking anti-inflammatory medicine or medicine for pain is not a sign of weakness.
It also reminds me of how much I use my hands, and how important are the things I do with them.