I can finally type semi-comfortably again. This week has been kind of a whirlwind, both because of work things and because of this whole potentially broken hand/wrist/who the hell knows thing going on.
I left the ER on Sunday feeling rather defeated. The previous picture of that MONSTER splint on my arm is a good chunk of the reason why. It also didn’t occur to me until later that evening that the earliest I would be able to see ANYONE was probably Wednesday — thank you, President’s Day. Hmph.
It took a lot of fighting with various healthcare people (my PCP is officially FIRED because they suck something terrible and I don’t ever want to set foot in there again), I wrangled an appointment for Friday at UMass Memorial in Worcester. They reduced Frankenarm down to this:
|Look!! I can see/use my fingers!|
They also told me that it’s highly likely I have a hairline fracture on my scaphoid bone. Hairline fracture is good, scaphoid bone is not so good. The scaphoid is one of the bones in the wrist, and it is in a not-so-hot place. It doesn’t get a lot of blood flow, so it takes some time to heal — like, three months in a cast time to heal.
So, to totally confirm, I have a CAT scan scheduled for Tuesday, and then another follow up for Friday. I can deal with that. I’m not in a whole lot of pain, and having the use of my hand again has been fabulous. You never know what you’re gonna miss until it’s gone!
As an aside: I was quite impressed with the staff at UMass Memorial. They were pleasant, informative, treated me like a human and not a diagnosis on a piece of paper, and easy to work with. It was the least stressful medical experience I’ve had in a long time. +1 for UMass Memorial!
So, now that I have this handy (hah!) new splint, I figured it was okay to go see Image. Sure, I was going to do it even if I still had the Frankenarm splint, but that’s beside the point! I miss him so much during the week, and especially this week. I spent a lot of time repeating the story to interested parties, and reiterating that what happened is not his fault. All I wanted to do was go to the barn and hug him until he was annoyed with me.
I spent most of today doing just that. Yeah, we went for a little walk and worked on some flexing exercises in the ring, but I mostly just snuggled him. A friend and someone who has been a huge cheerleader during this process stopped by to meet him, and he happily hung out with us, inspecting both of us for cookies. He seemed fascinated by my thumb that was encased in the splint (technical term: thumb spica. Who knew?) and wiggled his lips all over the ace bandage. He then did this:
|Hnnnggghhh death by cute!|
He was cuddled up against me thoroughly enjoying ear scratches for a good few minutes. I melted into a puddle of goo. He was more than happy to hang out and be cuddled. Well, if I wasn’t already in love…!
We ended the day with cookie stretches and another once over with the brush. He’s starting to shed…I got a good amount of fur off of him with my “furminator” type tool that Andis put out a few years ago. This makes me so happy…I can’t wait to see what he looks like all slicked out!
Before I succumb to the call of the ice cream in the freezer down stairs…one thing this week really made me stop and stare increduously at my phone. I got a text from a long time horse friend from high school. She asked me how I was doing, and then, very seriously, questioned when I was returning my horse to his previous owner. When I stuttered back a response of “Um, I’m not!”, I got an affronted reply of “Why would you keep a horse like that when there are so many better ones out there?”
I’m pretty sure that’s when my head exploded. I don’t quite remember typing out the absolutely scathing reply I sent, but it sure wasn’t pretty, or nice. I can’t say I’m super proud of my reaction, but I was rip roaring mad.
I will do everything in my power, and then some, to help this horse become the animal I’m sure he can be. I am not the type to give in at the first sign of trouble (as long as the animal’s well being isn’t being jeopardized), ESPECIALLY in this case where his reactions are not due to malice or naughtiness, but outright fear. I will not give up on him. This is silly, but I’ve been on the receiving end of people giving up on me, for various reasons. I will not do that to anyone, or anything, I care about, without giving all I’ve got.
If it came down to it, and he truly isn’t “fixable”, then he will either return to B, if she is willing and able, or he will receive a dignified, quiet end to his life. There is absolutely no reason for this horse to end up in bad hands, ever again, and there are worse fates for a horse than being put to sleep. I have gotten backlash for this particular opinion, but I quit caring a long time ago. I do NOT foresee it ever coming to that, because there is no doubt in my mind that he is going to become an amazing horse some day. That’s all there is to it.
I’ve calmed down now, for the most part, and put it behind me. I shouldn’t have gotten as upset as I did, but it happened and it’s over. Hopefully I’ll conduct myself with a little less swearing the next time someone blindsides me with a completely crass and stupid question. 😉