Still feeling wristful...but happy that it's more or less over.

Just a final bit more of the adventure...

Friday, December 17th was the day the pins came out! O frabjous day, indeed. The extremely nice medical professional Dr. C. handled the process, and he was MOST gentle and didn't hurt me one bit. Well, okay, there WAS one bit that hurt, but it wasn't his fault.

Having armed (tee hee) myself for the promised pain of pin extraction by ingesting not one, but TWO hydrocodone tablets, I presented myself at the hospital at nine a.m. sharp. The whole thing was over in 15 minutes. The extraction was effected not, in fact, by a Black and Decker drill set on rewind, but rather with a humble Allen wrench (it was like I was a piece of Ikea furniture, in disassembly mode). First thing was to unscrew the two purple "Mr. Safe" pluggy things, and off they came, followed by the removal of the black stabilizer rod thing. Then we got down to business: Dr. C. wielding the Allen wrench, and me acting all nonchalant and making really stupid jokes, while clutching David's hand tight enough to cut off HIS circulation. But after a twist or two (or five) of the wrench, out came each of the four pins. Only pin three gave me any pain at all, and that was a little moment of agony, though mercifully brief.

Of course I asked Dr. C. if I could keep all the pieces of what used to be my constant companions, the two Mr. Safes and their amazing combo, the External Fixator. I think he found this request a little odd, but of course the patient in question had blue hair, so I guess he figured he should just go along with it. So then he offered me the loan of the x-rays, too, so that I could scan them and preserve the images of my once broken, now healing wristal bones for all eternity. That was so very nice of him. I have yet to scan 'em, but maybe when I do, I'll add them to this final chapter of the wrist-y blog.

And now for some pix.

The entire set of items that worked together to become my very own personal bionic 'External Fixator.' Check out the pointy screwy ends on the pins: I cleaned the blood off, but still -- they are SCREWS, you know? Urgh.

And here's a close up of "Mr. Safe." Ain't he cute?

Aaaaaand -- finally -- my pin-free arm. Calloo, callay!

I know the thing is not lovely in itself. It's puffy and has icky skin, but it is at last my very own again, and that is indeed a wonder to behold (despite appearances.) Here we are festively sporting "Littlest Pet Shop" bandaids, but as of this writing, now an entire week pin-free, we are actually also band-aid free, and healing like crazy. Those little pin holes closed up within minutes, seemingly...

But the wrist isn't really interested yet in taking on its former work in flexibility and strength. Staying puffy and stiff seems to be its grouchy, uncooperative preference. (I can now bend it backwards an entire 5 degrees -- woot.) Sooooo, clearly the future holds physical therapy, lots and lots and LOTS of physical therapy.

Because I really do want to play the fiddle again. AND get back on my bike. Oh yes, indeed -- life is all ready for me to jump back in for more craziness. What fun has this adventure been, and what fun for it all to be (nearly) over.