I have to teach at 6am tomorrow and it's 9:50pm today. My hands are throbbing from birth defects and surgeries and I'm not sure why I seem to think that the exact motion of typing which is my top agitator will somehow be cathartic.
They say don't fight the splint. My OT says
Don't
FIGHT
the Splint.
Splinting is not enough, you must rest. You must accept the shape and stillness to have any hope in healing. Every fight - the muscle spasms, the tendons tear, the inflammation swells. And it will never stop hurting.
And of course I think of you.
Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 9:55 PM UTC
I have to teach at 6am tomorrow and it's 9:50pm today. My hands are throbbing from birth defects and surgeries and I'm not sure why I seem to think that the exact motion of typing which is my top agitator will somehow be cathartic.
They say don't fight the splint. My OT says
Don't
FIGHT
the Splint.
Splinting is not enough, you must rest. You must accept the shape and stillness to have any hope in healing. Every fight - the muscle spasms, the tendons tear, the inflammation swells. And it will never stop hurting.
And of course I think of you.
Request permission to use this poem