Friday, September 19, 2014

"De Quervain's" OR "my experience with the blue gloves"

So I found out I'm stubborn.  I know, I should have realized this before age 27.  Since the only people who really read this are people I know, you are probably shaking your head in disappointment that I didn't know this before.

I was so stubborn that when my wrists/thumbs/hands started hurting after the baby was born, I waited until a regularly scheduled doctor's appointment to ask about it.  I was having shooting pains every now and again when I picked Levi up and every now and then they would "lock up" and my thumbs would stick in one position.  She referred me to a physical therapist and vaguely suggested it was De Quervains Tenosynovitis.  A fancy name for "mommy thumb" from lifting a baby all.the.dang.time.  So I started seeing a physical therapist.  Twice a week.  With an infant at each appointment screaming the whole time.  The whole clinic knew when we were there!

They ordered braces for me to wear, and when they arrived I was *delighted* to discover that they were boldly blue.  No tasteful black braces for this gal.  Thank you "Sammons Preston" and whoever at your company decided that blue was definitely the right choice. 

Sidenote: as a new mom with all the feelings associated with my changed body, as well as someone who is still learning how to carry her baby without being all thumbs, it would be great to be a bit more anonymous sometimes rather than blue enough to have the checkout gal ask me what I did to my hands.  Or small children ask me if my gloves were made out of can koozies.

So I went to physical therapy once or twice a week for over a month before I decided to ask if there was something more we could do.  That was me being stubborn again, I should have asked sooner.  I was referred to a hand specialist, and when I called I had to schedule an appointment OVER A MONTH out.  Grr.  Meanwhile, my hands would frequently lock up or any sudden jarring motion would leave me with misty eyes.  I was using my forearms for holding/carrying/opening things and used my hands like clubs or pinched things between my fingers rather than use my thumbs.  It was bad.

Well this past Wednesday I finally made it to my appointment (over an hour drive with an appointment starting at 8 am with a baby and my hubby in tow) and I got the miracle shot everyone's been telling me about.  I had a cortisone injection in each wrist.  I am so thankful that Dillon came with me to that appointment; I completely underestimated how much it would leave me unable to do a darn thing.  I'm not sure I could have driven home safely.  I was popping ibuprophen and it was helping, slightly, but I still couldn't pick up the baby.  Poor Dillon kept getting called over (thank goodness he can work from home on occasion) to help me shift Levi or move him to the other breast to nurse. It's getting better though and I'm back to a "normal pain" level.

So now I get to wait up to a month to see if there was any improvement.  Needless to say I was (and still am) frustrated.  I thought I'd write about it so that you all can go see the dang doctor if this starts to happen to you.  Don't wait, it'll just get worse and then you'll be poppin' ibuprophen and swearing at the child-proof bottle it came in like me.

I also thought I should write about it because my husband is seriously amazing.  For the past three months he has been getting up in the middle of the night every time the baby wakes to pick him up, change him if necessary, and lay him next to me so I can nurse.  Then, on occasion, I wake him up when the baby is done nursing so that Dillon can pick the baby up and put him back in the pack&play.  The other day we did this every 45 minutes all.night.long.  And then Dillon went to work the next day and functioned like a human.  He's my hero.  Someone start the slow clap for this guy.

How we all felt the morning of my shots.

So my hubby is amazing.  And blue club hands suck.

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