My New "Best Friend"

  Aging is rough.  Sorry, youngsters, you get to look forward to some pretty aggravating things as you age. You might as well just suck it up, Buttercup, and get on with life.  Aging ain't fun!  But...getting old beats the alternative.  As of this week, my new best friend is a finger splint. Nope, I did not break, mangle or otherwise mutilate said digit but it is painful.  My old nemesis, arthritis, is flaring up again and causing all sorts of problems.  Gardening, artwork, typing (yup, this blog) and even household chores are difficult if not impossible.  The "ring" finger on my right hand (it would be the right hand...I am right handed) seems to want to lock in the clinched position.  When it locks,  there is practically no getting it free again.  The splint keeps it straight and forcibly keeps it from closing and locking.  The doctor called it a fun thing, "trigger finger", which made me giggle since I have not shot a gun in years!  The doctor explained that the tendon that controls the movement of the finger is inflamed causing it to not glide smoothly through its "sheath". This can cause the finger to become locked and be painful.  Well, he got that right! It is definitely painful.  More so when you try to force the hand back open.  

  So, what do you do about said finger that now has a funny sounding ailment?   "Well," said the diagnosing person with the medical degree, "You could try resting it to start."  Now I like that!  Just how do you rest a finger??  Go to sleep little ring finger...the rest of us have work to do." My friendly medical adviser grinned and asked ever so politely  "Would you wear a splint?"   I was not happy.  A splint?  Images of large body casts, crutches and, wait, a walker flashed through my head.  I was assured that the splint was small and would not impede my hiking.  Yep, the doctor knows me well.

  Next advice from my trusted person with knowledge of health things "Try a pain reliever such as Ibuprofen,  That sometimes can help diminish the inflammation and ease the pain."  I reminded the doctor that taking pills is not something that I find delightful and queried if there was some herb that might do the trick.  He just looked at me like I needed something more to help the thinking and not the hand.  It is a good thing that I am on great terms with my doctor and he understands that I am not what fits in the category of "normal" patients.  I was informed that herbs were not his strong suit and perhaps I knew more about those than he did.  I plan to experiment but first will take a few days of the lovely pills.  Ugh! I was not happy.  

    "If that does not help, we may have to do surgery."  Ok, so let me get this straight.  Since my finger insists on folding down like a clamp, you want to whack at it with a knife?  Egad, Sir!  Do not get any ideas here!  I sort of need this finger.  It adds a lot to the looks of my hand and, when it is acting properly, is rather useful. Without it gloves would be impossible to wear and reeling in a fish would be down right awkward!  Again, I was not happy.  Dr. Smith told me that I was difficult but at least he said it with a grin.  He assured me that the finger would not be lopped off and discarded.  Whew!

  Surgery is not something that I relish. Mark purchased a splint and a bottle of Ibuprofen. (He is a good man!) At this point, the splint is looking mightily like a new body part.  I wear it faithfully,  I am trying to "rest" the finger (not happening, by the way) and I try not to think of the consequences of having a tight fist at all times.  I am not happy about it but I can deal with it.  The pills do help even though I begrudgingly swallow them. Research on herbs and possible exercises has commenced.  I did find that washing dishes in nice hot water seems to give the greatest relief!  Son suggested I learn to use the left hand more but that is sort of like teaching an old dog some new tricks.  I tried. That, too, ain't happening. And I am not happy....but things could be worse.  I shall try to find the silver lining in this dismal cloud.  It has to be there somewhere.  Oh, and just so you will know.  It is really difficult to type with a metal thing clanking around on the keyboard!