Myron Lives!

Well, sort of.

I think maybe it's Myron's ghost's cousin, once removed.

Otherwise known as adhesions and scar tissue built up under the skin.

I was at OT today, and decided my progress was decidedly pathetic. (My therapist said, when I mentioned it to her, that it has nothing to do so much with strength as it did the scar tissue getting in the way of the ligaments and tendons trying to do their jobs. So I'm not pathetic, but it sure looks that way.)

I'm holding a 2-lb. dumbbell.

Yes, a whole two pounds.

I'm doing my extension/flexion exercises. Extension pulls the hand and wrist up; flexion drops it down.

Behold, it's progress!

No, really. Progress.

Honest.

I can now get about 51 degrees of extension without the dumbbell, which is awesome, compared to the 11 degrees I started with. And that's without all the heat therapy and the stretching and the exercises and everything that gets me another 8 or 9 degrees of motion.

With the dumbbell is another story. I'm still working on building up my hand strength. Two pounds is a lot when you consider the amount of trauma Myron has put me through.

By comparison, here's what I can do with my left hand:

Yeah, you can see why it's so easy to get discouraged. And I should theoretically have another 5-10 degrees of motion beyond that in my dominant hand. Which I don't (obviously).

My therapist says that part of my problem is that my ligaments are naturally so loose that any tightness feels even worse than it is, because I'm so used to being freakishly limber. In my hands, anyway.

I have to constantly remind myself that I could not even pick this up ten weeks ago.

But this terrible-looking splint (beautifully designed on pink hibiscus magic stuff by my occupational therapist), what my therapist calls aggressive treatment, is helping me get more and more movement back.

But yes, it hurts.