My Wonky Arm

To be honest, to this day I'm still not sure exactly what happened. One minute I was stroking Barney my dog, having just got in after having a coffee at my friends house, the next moment I'm lying on the floor wondering how on earth to get back up. I think I must have turned awkwardly and missed my footing, I didn't have time to think "I'm going to fall" , I just found myself on the floor having, thankfully, missed the corner of the dining table on the way down, I remember shouting out "oh God, oh God" as I hit the floor directly on my right elbow, landing with my whole weight on my arm. An excruciating pain shot through my elbow as I tried to rise, holding on to any bits of furniture I could reach to pull myself to my feet, what with me moaning and groaning as I slowly pulled myself to my knees, and poor old Barney the dog now shivering and shaking in shock, we must have looked a right pair!

As soon as I was up and standing hanging for dear life on to the table, and feeling very shaky myself, I realised I had done something really bad to my arm or elbow. The pain was terrific, it made me feel as though I wanted to pass out, and I knew I was about to visit the hospital. I'm not one for rushing off to the doctors for every little ailment and having seen enough of hospitals to last me quite some time during my cancer treatments, I did not relish an afternoon in the hospital but I had no choice. I rang my husband and asked him to come home from work, luckily he works close by so in ten minutes he was back. His first reaction was to take me to A & E in the car but by this time I could hardly get up from the chair I had managed to sit down on without blacking out and the pain I felt was awful. He knew it was bad when I said he needed to call an ambulance. I hate going to hospital at the best of times, to actually ask for an ambulance is unheard of for me.

To cut a long story short, I had broken my arm just above the elbow joint, a supra condular fracture to give it the proper name. I had been so glad to reach hospital, ambulances, as I discovered, are not the most comfortable vehicles to ride in. The several hours spent in A & E having x-rays, examinations, plaster casts and some wonderful attention from doctors and nurses at New Cross hospital, Wolverhampton wasn't my ideal way to spend an afternoon, and I was glad to go home.

Then my problems began. Have you ever tried to, how can I put this delicately, use the toilet using one arm? I tell you pulling up your knickers is a feat in itself!

Sleeping is another problem, when you are in plaster from finger tips to shoulder, with your arm bent at a right angle, getting comfortable is virtually impossible.

Showering, now that is a sight to behold, I have enough trouble getting in and out of the bath to shower anyway, hanging on to the rails for fear life and stepping gingerly over the side. Doing it with one arm incapacitated is not easy, infact for me it was almost impossible. It's very embarrassing when you need to ask your husband to hang on to you while you try and negotiate the bath, and getting out again, whilst wet and slippy, well need I say more! Especially whilst wearing a huge, long thick plastic bag over your cast, very becoming! You are given a leaflet at the hospital to measure the appropriate broken limb then send away, for quite an expensive plastic bag made to fit the cast and keep it dry!

My friends and family were great, rallying round to make sure I could eat properly (I couldn't cook or even butter bread, I found its not easy with only my left arm) so I found myself reliant on the kindness of others to give me a hand, literally!

I can't walk far due to arthritis, and use a mobility scooter but even this tiny bit of independence was denied to me as I found I couldn't ride my scooter using only my left arm. It's never really been the same since my breast cancer operation being a bit weaker than my other arm, so I was left to get about using my wheelchair, with someone pushing me. Very frustrating, independence gone.

After seven weeks in plaster, a rather fetching shocking pink one, chosen by my granddaughter, I was pleased to have it removed, only to find my arm is now quite wonky, and upon having an x-ray it was discovered, three months after first breaking my arm, that I had actually broken it in a second place, opposite where the first break was found, the fracture having been missed the first time! My heart sank thinking I would be back in plaster as the second fracture had not healed and was a possible non union. I had been told at the start that I may need an operation, now my fears were coming to the surface.

Seven months on I'm not in plaster and I didn't in the end need an operation but my arm won't straighten properly, still causes me some pain, and I don't have a lot of strength in it yet. It looks like I will end up with a permanently wonky arm and I'm told it will take a long time and some strengthening exercises before it's better, but I'm slowly getting there and so very glad to get my independence back, I hated needing help to shower and get dressed, and its nice to be able to get out and about on my mobility scooter by myself again.

Independence is precious, you don't realise until you lose it.