The Wind-Up Arm Chronicle

As I just told a friend and former player, "My arm is not made of normal arm substances." Over a year ago, I got sick of being normal and decided to become a surgical phenomena. So I broke and shattered a handful of bones in my arm. Now I have a part-human, part-robot (okay, just metallic) bone structure. It has planes, chains, and automobiles. ..... ..... .... Okay but the chains part is true! And replacement heads (aka huge long bolts), screws, and plates.

Most of you will not recall (because, hopefully, you never had to see it), but for several weeks after my injury/surgery, my hand blew up to the size of one of those dentist's office gloves that you can inflate and put a toothbrush inside---only my was a bit more purpley-blue. Other than being well-timed for Halloween (and therefore the repeated answering of the question as to my hand's authenticity), it wasn't a helping hand. Puffy balloon. Purpley-blue. And one more thing. Stuck! That's right I said stuck. Here are a couple of pictures. Just keep in mind that I am actually straightening my fingers as much as possible in these photos. When I was first able to sleep flat again, I remember trying to hold my hand palm down on the bed and not being able to do it because my fingers would not straighten that way. Oh, sigh. Jolly good times. We spent a great deal of effort to get those little guys straightened out--bending them backwards and stretching out the tendons and ligaments.

Well, anyone who knows anything about the intricate structure of the arm (and that does not include me) know that, in the forearm, there are three dominant tendons, each serving its own purpose. In my double-dislocation and single-shattering, I messed up all of these tendons. One of which, to use the words of my PT, is "meshed up." No, not messed. Well, yes, messed. But more than messed; it is meshed. That is the one that works the outer fingers. Therefore, if you apply any kind of pressure to my little pinky on my left hand, it will immediately go towards the rest of my fingers despite my effort to fight you. (AKA I'm very weak and now have tons of excercises and a heart shaped ball to squeeze. Which is okay because I like hearts.)

Okay. Meshed up tendon = meshed up fingers. Check.

Now, let's have some interaction. Give yourself an exaggerated wave hello, up and down. Like the stereotypical "I'm gay" hand gesture. Normally, your hand goes about as far back from vertical as it goes forward. Although my left hand in no way matches my right when I attempt this, neither does my left match itself. It goes back to about normal. It seems to get stuck going forward. This is only a problem for me because I actually enjoy playing the guitar....but can't. Although I can actually hold the neck and apply my fingers to the proper frets, I cannot do so without a considerable amount of discomfort. (I now have exercises for this, too....and a left-handed guitar.)

This is the saga of my abnormalities, a chronicle, if you will--which I can wind with my right hand but not with my left (very well). My arm is meshed up. Despite being surgically removed and bolstered, it is not perfect. It can't be perfect. And it continues to disclose it's imperfections as though it were a trickle in a dam, waiting to break. Only it's already been broken. A lot.