My doctor is Mary Ann, and she is as sweet as pie, she deals with soft tissue damage. She wrapped my hand in a nice heating pad with wet towels which felt lovely, then she had me squeeze a couple of things to test for strength and then she went to the massage. She asked if I use my hands a lot. I told her that I knit. Well, so does she! We chatted about Stitches East, Vogue Knitting Live, projects we've made and Elizabeth Zimmerman. She's going to understand exactly where I'm coming from and she's not going to say 'no knitting'. Whew!
She rubbed the top of my hand which was uncomfortable, but not painful, then she went to my palm - where I nearly let out a primal scream. Turns out that I waited so long to get help for my sprain that all of my palm swollen and the damage went from one finger to three fingers. Dang!
"Will I be able to knit?" I ask.
"No.." she said calmly. What?!
"Not even a little bit?" I ask.
"Nope. Didn't you notice that there are no wrinkles in the knuckles of your right hand? Huh? That's an indication of swelling."
At that, she must have noticed (and recognized) the glint in my eye. You know, the glint that says, 'I know you said no, but I'm going to knit anyway'.
She went away and came back with a warm piece of cloth which she pressed into my hand, and then she went away and came back with some new 'gear':
I feel so betrayed! And by a knitter, too! For every hour I wear the splint, I can knit for 60 seconds.
I can't make anything in 60 second increments!
The gear is on until the swelling goes down and the healing has begun. Dang! Like I said, it's my own darned fault - since I willingly ignored the warning, I willingly accepted the consequences. Or did I?
(Stay tuned because I am going to knit with this contraption on. You knew I would!)
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