My Dumb Thumb

Has been being dysfunctional since November.
I started having problems with my right hand suddenly one morning, and has been complaining since.
I did take it to the random same-day doctor in, I think, January.
(Cos I was too busy over the holidays.)
Same day doctor checked that nothing was broken (and I don’t have arthritis – yay).
And sent me off to get a wrist brace to wear for three weeks.
Like this.

wrist

Which basically did nothing except annoy me.

But then I spent the next four months wrangling with our Cobra coverage.
Which Conexis kept trying to cancel, even though they kept taking our money – not to mention the State of California’s money, and the fed’s money.
(I can haz tetanus shot after two-inch deep puncture wound, plz?)
Finally the HR people at Tom’s job yelled at them, and they admitted we’d been covered all along,
(They were just having their little joke with us, I expect.)
So now I just have to get the ER visit bills canceled.
Sigh.

Anyway, they turned my account back on at Kaiser, and there were emails from my doctor who insisted I come in.
Because I finally got organized enough to have a regular doctor last fall.
And once you have one, they sort-of keep track of you.

Anyway, I had him look at my hand.
And he fiddled with this and that, and pinned it down to a specific tendon.
And now I have,a new brace to wear:

Thumb

Which is even more annoying than the first one.
But I can tell it is doing something, because it actually feels good to wear it.

So that brings me to my point.
And I do have one.
Because, obviously, I am not merely posting about me.

This morning Wolfie was sleeping on my shoulder when I woke up.
So I patted him for a while.
And tickled his irresistible belly:

belly

(Resist that, I dare you.)
Wolfie, of course, retaliated with all the pointy bits that, quite reasonably, surround kitty bellies.

But I had hand armor, which is completely unfair.

So, being a tabby at heart, he proceeded to undo the velcro straps.
Because hand armor, and velcro anything, are just Wrong, and Wrong Things Must Die.

I’m not sure whether this was to level the playing field (or rather to regain his pointy advantage there), or because he just Disapproved of Stuff on My Hand.
But he took undid it all, and insisted on more pattings.

So that was my morning, and it was very nice.

Read and post comments | Send to a friend