Sylvia's Journal

I woke up with numb hands again and a painful shoulder. Yesterday Julia took measurements and asked for pain ratings so that she can write a summary for the shoulder doctor who I will be seeing on the 3^rd. It is hard to give a pain rating when you are not actually in pain. Pain is much like walking into a icestorm. After you are through it, it is gone and you forget what it felt like. When contemplating pain as a past experience, it seems more like discomfort and I hardly ever give numbers above a 2 (on a 10 point scale).

The only experiences that I would rate ‘elevens’ were those two times that the rescue team and later the trauma team put my disclocated ankle back in place. I have never quite screamed as loud. I suppose people who are doing such jobs are used to that. I remember them calling out 1-2-3 and then they pulled and pushed. The first time was in the rescue truck. When, later in the trauma bay, people congregated by my foot and started counting 1-2-3 my brain knew what was about to happen. That scream was even louder I think. The next thing I knew was signing a consent form that was hovering above me in the dim light of the hospital’s subterranean corridors, where everything happens. And then everything went black (anasthesia) and I woke up with several pounds of plaster around my leg and 25 staples in my belly; but also with the good news that Axel would pull through.

All this is a faint memory now. The summer temperatures are replaced by snow and ice and the house is back to its previous cluttered state. We are living a normal life again. Only the doctors’ and PT appointments remind us that we are not there yet, but even those we are considerinig cutting back to two times a week rather than three or four.

Yesterday was a vacation day for all of us, except for Jim who had to work. He counts hits on internet sites to let advertisers know whether their advertising investments are worth their money. Our accident hass catapulted him into a new career. He even started his own business with a partner. This is the American way of course.

Tessa and Sita rose from their respective bed chambers halfway through the day, Axel went to physical therapy and so did I. And for the rest of the day we did things we like to do and don’t have much time for in addition to monitoring the ever present email in box. Sort of a boring day.