The Story of the Hand Therapy
First things first....2 December 2008 rose from DH. 11 Tuesdays to go before we are together again. Oh yes!
Now - the story of the hand therapy. Let me tell you one thing to always keep in mind: Doctors do not have a clue as to what is done in their therapy clinic. In the event you have not kept up to date on my extremely fascinating life, I learned my sore arm was due to a case of tendonitis. I refused a cortisone shot in his office....something about extreme pain for all of ten seconds (make that agonizing pain) for relief of maybe a week or so just doesn't make sense to me. So he offers something called "sonic therapy" and to go across the hall and make an appointment to come back for treatment.
I make the appointment for the following Monday. I showed up at the clinic 5 minutes ahead of schedule...finally was ushered into the sacred hall of pain about 45 minutes later. Ironically, there's a sign next to the 'greeting window' that reads "If you arrive 15 minutes past your appointment time, we may have to reschedule your appointment". Gave me much to ponder. So... I meet Sheila, my hand therapist. Sweet lady. I let her measure my wrists - loves my bracelets - we chat. Then a nice warming towel for 10 minutes....ah, I'm beginning to feel like I'm at a spa. I look around, I read a little and then Sheila returns. Okay - so now it's hand exercises. Oh yeah - I can do these. Two minutes later, I'm in agony.
But wait - there's more. I ask Sheila about the "sonic therapy". She gets this puzzled look on her face (not a good sign) and then brightens. "Oh yes - we've found that it really isn't beneficial...so we're going the patch route".
Oh yes - the patch route. She walks away - returns with what looks like a butterfly shaped bandaid. A very large butterfly shaped bandaid. She then proceeds to tell me that the medicine I picked up @ the pharmacy has been applied to the bandaid .... good so far. And she pats that huge bandaid patch on my arm. So far, so good. Then attaches a tiny little oval shaped apparatus on top. "This will feel like little needle pricks - you'll hardly feel it. It'll stay on for 3 minutes ..and it has its own timer". Good so far. One minute into the 'therapy' and the intensity of the "little needle pricks" increases...and increases...and increases. Holy smokes - if these are "little" pricks", Lord help me if I have to have the big guns. By the time the 3 minutes were up, I was mentally kicking myself for refusing the cortisone shot. Finally, the little oval thing is removed....that's a good thing.
I'm told to remove the bandaid patch in about 2 hours. Okay - that's do-able. I make a quick stop at WalMart - and now I'm feeling a little under the weather. Stomach starts to roll & pitch and a nice little headache starts. Surely not connected to this bandaid patch. I manage to check out ..... thinking that if it really gets bad, I'll open up the bottle of wine I bought and chug it done - and to heck with the consequences of being stopped by the police. This is not good. I make it home.....and by now, I'm feeling terrible. Head is pounding - stomach has decided to to stop with the rolling & pitching - let's just kick it up a couple hundred notches - let's jump up and down and sideways. This.is.really.not.good. I look at my watch....ah, get this bandaid thing off NOW.
I tug slightly. Resistance. I tug a little more. Resistance. Okay - I can do this. I pull hard and it finally comes off - along with every bit of hair on my arm where the patch was. Super glue folks take note - you really need to get with this manufacturer of this patch. Your super glue has nothing on this adhesive on this patch.
So now it's been over 24 hours since therapy....have done the hand exercises twice so far .... 2nd time not as bad as the first. I return to the therapy clinic on Friday. Today is Wednesday.
I should have gone for the cortisone shot.
One of these days....I quilt.
Angel45402
Now - the story of the hand therapy. Let me tell you one thing to always keep in mind: Doctors do not have a clue as to what is done in their therapy clinic. In the event you have not kept up to date on my extremely fascinating life, I learned my sore arm was due to a case of tendonitis. I refused a cortisone shot in his office....something about extreme pain for all of ten seconds (make that agonizing pain) for relief of maybe a week or so just doesn't make sense to me. So he offers something called "sonic therapy" and to go across the hall and make an appointment to come back for treatment.
I make the appointment for the following Monday. I showed up at the clinic 5 minutes ahead of schedule...finally was ushered into the sacred hall of pain about 45 minutes later. Ironically, there's a sign next to the 'greeting window' that reads "If you arrive 15 minutes past your appointment time, we may have to reschedule your appointment". Gave me much to ponder. So... I meet Sheila, my hand therapist. Sweet lady. I let her measure my wrists - loves my bracelets - we chat. Then a nice warming towel for 10 minutes....ah, I'm beginning to feel like I'm at a spa. I look around, I read a little and then Sheila returns. Okay - so now it's hand exercises. Oh yeah - I can do these. Two minutes later, I'm in agony.
But wait - there's more. I ask Sheila about the "sonic therapy". She gets this puzzled look on her face (not a good sign) and then brightens. "Oh yes - we've found that it really isn't beneficial...so we're going the patch route".
Oh yes - the patch route. She walks away - returns with what looks like a butterfly shaped bandaid. A very large butterfly shaped bandaid. She then proceeds to tell me that the medicine I picked up @ the pharmacy has been applied to the bandaid .... good so far. And she pats that huge bandaid patch on my arm. So far, so good. Then attaches a tiny little oval shaped apparatus on top. "This will feel like little needle pricks - you'll hardly feel it. It'll stay on for 3 minutes ..and it has its own timer". Good so far. One minute into the 'therapy' and the intensity of the "little needle pricks" increases...and increases...and increases. Holy smokes - if these are "little" pricks", Lord help me if I have to have the big guns. By the time the 3 minutes were up, I was mentally kicking myself for refusing the cortisone shot. Finally, the little oval thing is removed....that's a good thing.
I'm told to remove the bandaid patch in about 2 hours. Okay - that's do-able. I make a quick stop at WalMart - and now I'm feeling a little under the weather. Stomach starts to roll & pitch and a nice little headache starts. Surely not connected to this bandaid patch. I manage to check out ..... thinking that if it really gets bad, I'll open up the bottle of wine I bought and chug it done - and to heck with the consequences of being stopped by the police. This is not good. I make it home.....and by now, I'm feeling terrible. Head is pounding - stomach has decided to to stop with the rolling & pitching - let's just kick it up a couple hundred notches - let's jump up and down and sideways. This.is.really.not.good. I look at my watch....ah, get this bandaid thing off NOW.
I tug slightly. Resistance. I tug a little more. Resistance. Okay - I can do this. I pull hard and it finally comes off - along with every bit of hair on my arm where the patch was. Super glue folks take note - you really need to get with this manufacturer of this patch. Your super glue has nothing on this adhesive on this patch.
So now it's been over 24 hours since therapy....have done the hand exercises twice so far .... 2nd time not as bad as the first. I return to the therapy clinic on Friday. Today is Wednesday.
I should have gone for the cortisone shot.
One of these days....I quilt.
Angel45402
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