A Mini Miracle and Only Partial Success

Sooooooooooo. First the not so Great, but OK news. They were able to free my ulmar nerve from where it was trapped in in bony groove of,y elbow. But the plan had been to also do a nerve transposition – move it to the outside of my bone so that it can never be trapped again. ( This is all happening in the inside of my arm. The side closest to my body.) BUT, the surgeon didn’t do the transposition because I don’t have fat on my arm, which means my nerve would be in an even worse position, only kept from being hurt by my skin. (No padding to protect the nerve.)

They weren’t lying. They gave me four different types of painkillers. I’m spacing them out and all they’re doing is taking the edge off. No carrying even a cup of tea allowed. I’m now living like I’m left-handed and doing a poor job if it! I must keep the dressing on till I see the surgeon next month, and I must definitely keep the sling on all the time till Monday when I can -here and there -start moving my arm a bit before putting it back on. I have no clue how I will sleep. I can’t pull myself onto the recliner with one arm, and I’m scared I’m going to roll onto my sore arm in my sleep. It’s actually the side I sleep on most. We shall see!

I don’t know what the partial success means for the long term, but I told my middle two children that if I could live 42 years before it happened, then I should be fine for another 42. Both the anesthetist and surgeon warned me that “Nerve hurts, that’s it’s job,” so I will be in significant pain given what they’ve done to it once the local anesthetic they added wears off. (I did have it under general too.)

Now for the mini miracle!!

This week, I was wondering how to get my first born officially diagnosed. The neurologist who confirmed my daughter’s autism is full of tosh, and the one who first diagnosed my son no longer sees autistic patients. Also, she is FAR. I told a young lady about my not knowing who to take him to.

You know how it is in hospitals, only a thin curtain separates you from other patients, so I overheard a mom tell the nurse that she had not given her child his ADHD medication today. ( You know the drill. No eating or drinking on the day.) My ears perked up. I’d seen the child, it’s a teenager. Meeting an older ADHDer was important to me, so I called out, asking if I could talk to them. They said yes, so I pushed the curtain aside and asked if they minded if I asked about his ADHD- his symptoms, his doctor… They were both OK with it so I asked how his ADHD affects him, the mom told me how old he was when he was diagnosed, how meds affected him, and the current meds he’s on at the moment. So cool! I was touched that they’d let a stranger into their world. Of course, I first had mentioned that two of my children have ADHD, hence my interest.

Now the cooler part is, a while after I’d gone back to my bed, the mom waved her hand through the gap in my curtain and asked if she could come in. Of course she could! She came bearing the name of the child psychiatrist treating her son, her address, and her telephone number! She’s not very far from us and she isn’t one of those who wants to recommend therapies the children don’t even need. Win!! ( I’ve also recently seen a lot of adult autoistics asking why certain therapies are even needed, some stating how therapy gave them PTSD, and how they gained absolutely nothing. OT and some of speech too were the worst. OT because their sessions were focused on making them fit in, and speech was useless to some because they-like my son – have auditory processing disorder and speech discrimination issues, so they just CAN’T reproduce speech the way the therapist wants. Literally can’t.) Obviously therapy can be a positive and is needed. But not always. So yes, this psychiatrist sounds like she’s right up my alley, and my first born is looking forward to being assessed!

Surgery might not have accomplished everything it was meant to (Story of me my life these days) but it answered a question I’d asked and received no answer for in a group I had asked in. (Everybody recommended the lying neurologist.) None of them my race. I brought race up because the mom mentioned that the psychiatrist is Afrikaans, “but nice.” (She’s White, ‘English’) I found that interesting coming from a non-Black especially!

Hoping for a speedy recovery, sleep, and no more operations. But yes, this surgery gave me information I would have never had otherwise. I have Googled child psychiatrists and never come across this one.

I’m happy.

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